17 Days
by Liria247
Summary: A reaction piece to the Change in the Game.  There were too many gaps, and this is an attempt to fill some of them in.  Please read and review!
1. Chapter 1

Hey all, this is my first-ever reaction fic. I've written a few others if you decide you like my writing. I really feel like I need to write this, though, because I am so vehemently incensed by the writers right now, and nothing is adding up. I like numbers that add up, and I like clarity, and solid timelines, all of which were missing from the whole situation. So, in an attempt to make things work in my own brain, I'm writing my own timeline.

Enjoy!

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><p>Temperance Brennan sat ramrod straight in the cushioned chair of the brightly lit waiting room, trying her utmost not to squirm. It was so unlike her to be fidgety, especially as she hadn't had any caffeine that morning. It was also unlike her to book a last-minute, squeezed-in appointment with her gynecologist without calling months in advance. It was unlike her that her usual focus had disappeared into a brain that was currently acting as though it had a relentless recurring pop-up ad that disturbed her usual calm.<p>

This situation was unlike her.

Light from the bright morning sun streamed in through the windows and she exhaled slowly. Her breath seemed strangely amplified in the empty waiting room. The receptionist had assured her that the best time to come in would be when the office opened. The door to the office opened and Brennan startled easily, her head whipping around to see a well-dressed woman open the door and usher her tired-looking teenage daughter into the waiting area.

"Dr. Brennan?" Joani Sherman, a petite blonde who had worked there for as long as Brennan could remember, smiled at her, clutching a clipboard. "Dr. Burkett can see you now." Brennan stood and followed Joani back into an exam room. She flipped one of the colored flags on the exam room door before leading Brennan inside.

"Thank you for fitting me in on such short notice," Brennan said, almost apologetically.

"It was no trouble," Joani smiled at her. "Now it says in your chart that you are here for a pregnancy test—" Brennan's breath caught in her throat at the words. "—and so I need to ask you how long it's been since your last period."

"31 days. I-I'm on a very regular 28-day cycle, and my menstruations haven't been irregular since menarche at age 13." Brennan pursed her lips nervously.

"So your period is three days late?" Joani asked as she removed a plastic specimen cup from one of the cupboards and labeled it with her pen.

"Yes. Three days. "

"Have you taken a home test?

"I didn't see the point. It takes between 10 and 14 days to detect the human chorionic gonadotropin on a home pregnancy test, but the lab test here takes only 7 days after implantation. I would have come in for a more accurate test regardless." Joani smiled and handed out the specimen cup. Brennan took the cup without looking at her.

"This should go easily, but I need you to give us a sample of your urine. There's a restroom down the hall. Make sure you don't touch the inside of the cup or the lid at any time, be sure to set the lid down face-up, and let your urine run for a second before you catch the sample. I'll be right here when you're ready with the sample," she said this very kindly and clearly, as though she didn't want to cause Brennan any more distress.

"Thank you," Brennan said, more grateful than anything that she had used simple, precise, and clinical language. She took small comfort in that.

It was the first time since she was a teenager that she felt awkward complying with a medical professional's orders. Her hands were shaking more than usual from the excess catecholamines coursing through her bloodstream, and she took several deep breaths to try to relax herself. Why had she gone off of her oral contraceptives months ago? Why hadn't she said anything to Booth about contraception?

She knew that the chances were slim. 30 days of the menstrual cycle, 3 days for sperm to travel into the fallopian tubes, the tiny fraction that made it to the egg alive, a three-day window for fertilization, at least 4 days for the zygote to divide in the tubes enough to be able to implant into the wall of the uterus, three days of endometrial viability for the blastocyst to find a bit of uterus to implant into, 7 days for the syncytiotrophoblast to secrete enough beta hCG to be detectable on a medical pregnancy test, 20% fecundity for the average human couple in a one-month period.

The numbers calmed her, gave her something solid to cling to. She knew the probabilities and statistics. The meaning behind the numbers was much less comforting.

After she had returned the specimen to the kind blond in the exam room, Brennan was left with nothing but the clock ticking almost imperceptibly to distract her. Just then, her cell phone vibrated, and the noise startled her so violently that her purse almost fell to the ground.

_Message from Booth_, the screen said. She flipped open the phone to see the message. _Got a case, will pick you up from the lab in 10. _She smiled softly into the phone at how well he knew her, but typed in the reply message.

_Not at the lab yet. I will be there in about 30 minutes._ She sent the message. Booth didn't know she was at a doctor's appointment, and he would become exceedingly protective and inquisitive if he perceived that her health was in jeopardy in any way. Her phone buzzed again with the response.

_You ok? _Brennan rolled her eyes.

_Yes, see you in 30 minutes._

Brennan smiled. The transition in their relationship from friends and partners to really being together had gone much more smoothly than anticipated. They still made an excellent team in the field, they still maintained professionalism while they were working, and while the new level of intimacy they now shared had been ever-so-slightly rocky at the start, they had smoothed their interactions out to the point where it seemed they had been doing it this way for years. And in a way, they had. But the reality of the situation was that they had been together for 17 days.

Brennan's eyes began to well with tears, which she quickly wiped away angrily, upset with herself for being so emotional before she knew anything for certain. She couldn't stop the hailstorm of thoughts that were pounding around her head.

There was a sharp rap on the door.

"Come in," Brennan said. She gathered her purse over her shoulder and stood as a woman in her mid-30s with soft features and long, red, curly hair entered, grinning. Dr. Anna Burkett had been her gynecologist ever since she'd moved to DC, and she was an excellent, compassionate, and highly competent physician.

"Hello there, Dr. Brennan, it's good to see you" she said warmly, shifting the clipboard to her left arm and shaking Brennan' hand.

"Hello, Dr. Burkett," she said, sitting back down. "It's good to see you too." The physician sat in the wheeled stool and rolled over to where Brennan sat, clipboard in her lap.

"So how have you been," she asked sincerely. Brennan shrugged.

"I feel fine," she said, keeping from fidgeting her hands. Booth would say that was a giveaway to nervousness. Dr. Burkett nodded slowly at this response, looking unconvinced.

"Okay, then," she said clearly, "Let's revisit the reason why you're here."

"Have your people conducted the analysis of the specimen I provided?" Brennan blurted out.

"Yes," Dr. Burkett smiled. "You are pregnant."

Brennan nodded, breathing slowly and deeply for a few seconds.

"I suspected as much. Thank you for your time," she said, and she gathered her purse and stood to leave. Dr. Burkett looked surprised but quickly rearranged her face into an expression of neutrality.

"Dr. Brennan," she said in a docile, calming tone, rising from her seat and crossing the room to where Brennan stood. "Is there anything else you would like to discuss? I'm all yours for another 10 minutes." Brennan paused with her hand on the cool metal of the door handle. Dr. Burkett gestured back toward the chair. "Please, come sit down." It wasn't a question or an order, but an invitation.

Brennan exhaled deeply, nodded, and obliged. She took up her seat in the chair across from her gynecologist and swallowed, trying to get rid of the lump in her throat. So many things were coursing through her mind right now, she tried in vain to sort the emotional from the rational thoughts, to categorize all of her reactions and the questions that went with them so that she could try to organize the storm of chaos in her mind. There were so many questions she wanted to ask the physician, and they were all at the forefront of her brain and she couldn't order them fast enough. She looked at Dr. Burkett, who was simply sitting across from her, clipboard absent, waiting. She was jolted out of her own thoughts when her phone vibrated in her pocket. She ignored it, but looked back up at Dr. Burkett.

"This is very surreal," Brennan told the doctor. "I have felt the desire to have a child for two years, and now that it appears to be happening, I find that I'm not experiencing the emotions I anticipated."

"Yes, wanting a child and having a child are very different experiences," Dr. Burkett told her. "Wanting a child is characterized entirely by positive emotions, like exhilaration and eagerness to become a mother. Actually having a child, you will feel those things, but it comes with what can be an overwhelming fear and apprehension mixed with the excitement. It can be very confusing. Is this how you are feeling?"

"Yes, that description is accurate," she said quietly. Without warning, her eyes welled up with tears so quickly that she didn't have time to wipe them away before they spilled over. Dr. Burkett hopped up, retrieved a box of tissues from the counter, and held it out for her. Embarrassed at her emotionality, Brennan pulled two tissues from the box and then set it beside her, drying her eyes.

"What is it that makes you apprehensive, Dr. Brennan?"

"I—Everything," she said. "I know that I am well-equipped to be a mother, and I know that I can provide a child with everything that he or she needs. But birth defects are not uncommon, and genetics don't always ensure a healthy offspring. So many pregnancies are lost in the first trimester, and I don't know how I would handle a potential miscarriage."

"Well, I won't deny that having children comes with risks, both to the mother and the baby, but the majority of children are born without problems. Do you have a strong support system at home?"

"At home, no," she said quickly. "But I have a number of very close friends at work who are incredibly supportive and understanding."

"What about the baby's father?" Brennan swallowed.

"We have been partners at work for six years, and we only became romantically involved very recently. He has assured me on numerous occasions that he would never leave me of his own accord, that he would do anything for me, and that he would always be there for me when I needed him. I—I believe him," she said. "I believe him."

"Are you concerned that he will go back on his promise when he finds out you are pregnant?" Brennan's tears were almost overwhelming now. She shook her head.

"No, but I am afraid that we will go back to how it was, before we were intimate. He will share in the consequences of his actions, and I know he is a wonderful father, but this is not how our relationship was intended to progress. I wanted this to happen, but the timing is off." There was a moment of silence. Brennan looked at the clock. Her 10 minutes were about up, and it would be time for the physician to move to her next patient.

"It sounds to me like you have decided to keep the baby, is that right?" Dr. Burkett asked gently. Brennan could only nod, and she couldn't keep her lips from turning up into a small smile. Dr. Burkett grinned back at her.

"Alright then. I'm certain that you will make an excellent mother, Dr. Brennan," she reassured, and Brennan's smile grew a bit wider. "Do you have any last questions for me before we end the appointment?

"Does your office handle obstetrics as well as gynecology?" she heard herself blurt out. "I-I mean—"

"Yes, we do," Dr. Burkett said, giving her a small smile. "And if you would like, I would be able to handle all of your prenatal and perinatal care." Brennan nodded.

"I would like that," she said, "I will call to schedule those appointments. Thank you," she shook the physician's hand and both left the exam room.

Brennan entered the waiting room almost clumsily, nearly stumbling out of the office, but the reality of the situation didn't hit her until she was in the elevator on the way out of the building. A child. She was pregnant, and she was going to have a baby, a life. With Booth. She was having Booth's child. In the solitary space of the elevator, she lifted her shirt and laid a hand on her flat abdomen. It would be months before her child began to announce its appearance physically when she began to show. Her child. Booth's child. They would be linked forever now.

She left the elevator and her head was spinning. She burst into the women's restroom and gripped the sink with both hands, looking at herself in the mirror. She noticed that her complexion had paled and she was perspiring and the weight of the situation hit her with full force, enough to feel dizzy.

Shortly thereafter, she vomited. She never vomited. Everything happens eventually, right?

Brennan rinsed her mouth and dug into her purse for a stick of chewing gum. It was then that she remembered her missed cell phone message. She dug the phone out of her pocket and flipped it open.

_Coffee?_ Booth had asked several minutes ago.

Brennan furrowed her brow. If she asked for decaf, or tea, he would know something was up.

_No thank you. _

When she arrived later at the Jeffersonian, she found that Booth was already in her office, on the phone. He grinned at her and she gave him a nervous smile back, trying to push this morning's appointment to the back of her mind.

"Thanks, I'll let her know," Booth said into the cell phone before hanging up and grinning at Bones.

"We have a case!" he said. "Get your stuff, we're going to the bowling alley!"

"You told me that earlier," she said, slipping off her heels and jacket and pulling out her jumpsuit. "What do you know?"

"Not much, but I'll fill you in on the way there."

"Okay," she said, slipping the navy blue jumpsuit on over her pants and short-sleeved top before removing her necklace and zipping it up. "Could you hand me my boots?" she asked, and Booth handed them over.

"You're in late this morning," he said as she tied her boots and pulled her hair back.

"Well, you kept me up late last night," she grinned mischievously, silently hoping he would assume that she had overslept and let the subject drop. She couldn't lie to him, and she wasn't sure she was ready to tell him yet. She didn't know if he was ready.

"You had an equal hand in those escapades, Bones," he said, smirking. Brennan let out a silent sigh of relief. He drew slightly nearer to her with a twinkle in his eye. Brennan smiled, too, slinging her bag over her shoulder. He leaned in toward her, and she turned and headed out of the office.

"Bones," Booth groaned, turning and following her. She raised her eyebrow.

"This is not the appropriate place," she said. "Now let's get to the bowling alley, before the remains are compromised."

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><p>Yes, it will be continued. If you hate it, stop reading And let me know why, because I welcome suggestions for improvement. Unless they involve the medical details, because I am in the medical field and I guarantee that all of the science is accurate. If you have questions or want clarification, feel free to message me.<p>

Later, friends!

Liria


	2. Chapter 2

What a great audience! I was really not expecting such a fantastic response to this, especially as there are so many other of the "same" ones on the site right now. Thanks!

So here's the second chapter, and the goal here is to go into some detail of Booth's response after Brennan announces her pregnancy. I will be filling in some of the pieces about what happened between Vincent's death and the where the Change in the Game began, but they will be in bits and pieces rather than one continuous chapter. And before you ask, no, I absolutely hate the idea that B&B slept together the night after Vincent's death… I think it's terribly tacky, and Booth wouldn't allow their first time together to be during desperate, comfort-seeking grief sex. My opinion, take it or leave it.

Also, I am going to recap the conversation simply for the sake continuity. I typically get annoyed when other people do that, especially if it's the entire fic (I mean, come on, let's not pretend we'd be on this site if we hadn't already seen the episode). So, I'm sorry. You can skip to the original material and I won't be irked in the slightest

So, without further ado, here we go...

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><p>CHAPTER 2<p>

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><p>The night was warm, but both wore their jackets anyway, to hide their undercover clothing more than anything else as they had walked along in silence. Brennan's mind was reeling from the birth of her godchild, and more so from the reality that it would be her in less than a year's time. She shuddered despite the temperature. Her best friend had been absolutely glowing, telling her that her tiny son's birth had been wonderful, a dream.<p>

She couldn't fathom it just yet. Brennan knew that she wasn't like Angela, and she couldn't help feeling apprehensive. She and Booth weren't like Angela and Hodgins. Angela and Hodgins had experienced so much in their time as a couple, including a breakup and a period of dating other people. They were sure of their commitment to each other. They were sure of their love. They were sure of their roles as parents, bringing a tiny child into the world as proof of how deeply they cherished one another.

In light of Angela's pregnancy, Brennan's own seemed like little more than a mistake in her own mind. They hadn't planned for it. They had used birth control on every occasion except one. Except one. How many times had she been condescending towards other women in that situation? How many times had she called pregnant teenagers irresponsible?

"They looked so happy," she said as a car sped past where they walked under the glow of the streetlamps.

"Yeah, well, they had a baby."

"Their whole lives have changed, you'd think they'd be a little more apprehensive," she blurted out, looking at him as she walked. Apprehension. Apprehension was touching little more than the surface of what she felt.

"Well, you know, having a baby, that's a good thing," he said.

"You—you really think that?" she asked in a small voice, glancing over at him, searching his face for clues.

"Yeah, it's a great thing, why?" He looked at her and noticed the expression on her face, a mixture of curiosity and doubt and the focused, looking-for-the-truth look she got during so many of their cases. She didn't answer. "Oh, come on, Bones, look, the baby—the baby is fine, it's healthy. They had a healthy baby, alright, they love each other. This is the happiest day of their lives." That expression was still on her face, her mouth slightly agape, as she tilted her head and shifted her weight. Something in her clear blue eyes changed when he said this, as though she was feeling both hope and anxiety. "What?"

Brennan fidgeted. She opened her mouth but had trouble with words for the first time in a very long time. She hadn't wanted to tell him this way, but there was something about the concern in his warm brown eyes that seemed to draw the truth out of her. She took a breath.

"I'm—I'm pregnant," she said. Booth's face froze, his mouth ever so slightly agape, and suddenly she wanted to shrink back into the street, hail a cab and get home as soon as possible. He wasn't saying anything. He wasn't reacting at all, and that scared Brennan.

Booth felt paralyzed, like a tidal wave had come crashing over him. They hadn't been together for long. 21 days. A sudden anger gripped his heart, knowing that she had surely had sex with other men before they got together. How long ago had that last fling been? Surely 21 days was too soon for the baby to be his. Why was God playing this game with him now, so soon after they had become intimate after six long years of "the line" that existed between them?

"You're the father." She said this definitively. Booth took a second to process this. He looked into Brennan's eyes. They were sparkling now, but he knew that she was waiting for his reaction before she would express her feelings about it. He was going to have a baby with Bones! She was carrying his child, and he loved her more than anything in the world, and it was all happening so fast, but they had made a baby together. He was going to be a father again, and someday a tiny little person, the best of both of them, would call her "Mommy." Mama Bones. It felt so right. And he would be a father to Bones' child—the right way this time—and they would be parents together. It was almost incomprehensible.

But she was standing there on the sidewalk next to a busy street, still shifting her weight and looking at him apprehensively with uncertainty in her eyes, waiting for his reaction. Brennan watched as his face blossomed slowly into a smile, that silly grin she knew was attributable only to great happiness in his life.

Warm, sweet, sweeping relief blanketed her. He was excited, and that meant more to her than he would ever know. For the first time in a very long time, something life-changing had happened and her world hadn't fallen apart. The man she loved and cared for more than anything else was still there, grinning with delirious happiness, and nothing bad had happened.

Booth looked into Bones' face, still grinning, and he watched as her face relaxed into the most beautiful, radiant smile that he had ever seen.

"We're gonna have a baby?" He asked. Brennan noticed that his voice was softer, and the pitch slightly higher, than usual. She swallowed the rest of the lump in her throat, still smiling.

"That is generally the result of pregnancy," she said softly, casting her eyes down at the ground, a slight blush rising to her cheeks, then looking back up at Booth.

He laughed. He couldn't help himself. Bones had made a joke and she was pregnant with his child and he was going to be a dad, a real, full-time dad, and Bones would be a mother to their child. Their baby. A baby. Exhilarated, he found himself reaching across the sidewalk to hug her tightly, her feet lifting off the ground as he spun her around once before setting her down again.

When they broke apart, Bones was still looking into his eyes, searching his face, and her own face still held some apprehension in the tiny crinkle above her nose.

"What is it, Bones?"

"Are you upset with me?" She asked him quietly, her eyes pleading to know the truth. She kept her gaze on his face, bracing herself for a potential negative response. But he only shook his head slightly in disbelief.

"D'you really—Bones, how could I possibly be upset with you after news like that, huh?"

"Because of the lack of contraception during our first union. I neglected to tell you that I was no longer taking the oral contraceptives, and I didn't—I didn't think. I wasn't thinking clearly." She said, and the admission embarrassed her. She was a scientist, she didn't do anything without thinking. Every one of her decisions was precise and calculated.

Except one.

"Bones, hey," Booth said, gently pulling her into a hug. She turned her head and rested it on his shoulder, drawing comfort from his presence. If he was embracing her, she knew, he wasn't upset. "If I remember correctly, I had a very active role in this, too. I should have asked you about birth control, okay? This is not your fault." She nodded into his shoulder, and he pulled away, looking into her eyes. She felt a warm sensation deep in her abdomen, as she always did when he looked at her with such adoration. "How do you feel about this?"

"Apprehensive," she admitted. This was clearly not the answer he was looking for. He pulled away just a fraction and, gently placing his index finger under her chin, lifted her face to his, his other arm still wrapped around her. Booth's eyes were brimming concern.

"Why, Temperance?" he breathed, one eyebrow raised slightly. He pushed a lock of hair behind her ear before returning his arm to where it had been, and the two of them stood to one side of the sidewalk in the embrace as a man jogged past with a golden retriever on a leash. When she didn't answer right away, a tiny seed of doubt sprouted in his heart and Booth was afraid that the reason was _him_. One thing was very clear, though.

This was not a conversation they should be having here.

"Look, Bones, we, uh, we really shouldn't have this discussion here." His hand came up to cup her cheek, and she nodded in agreement. They released each other from the embrace, though Booth kept an arm around her shoulder, and they hailed a cab to her place even though they were just a block away from his, because Booth knew that she would be more at ease at her own apartment.

The cab ride was silent, both of their heads spinning from the conversation, each remembering where they had left off and what they needed to say before this night was through. When they arrived at her building and greeted the doorman, Booth put his hand at the small of her back to lead her through the doorway, and it seemed so natural that after they were through the door, she laced her arm through his and walked alongside him to the elevator.

"Would you like something to drink?" she asked after they had removed their coats.

"Bones, come here," he said, a question rather than an order, as he sat on her sofa.

"You didn't answer."

"My answer is no thank you for now," he said as she hung around the kitchen island. "It's really important that we have this conversation now, okay?" His tone of voice was comforting, unassuming, and clear. She nodded

"Okay." She sat on the couch sideways, facing him, with her legs tucked under her. He scrutinized her face before taking her hand in his and intertwining their fingers.

"I have to ask you again, Bones, why are you scared?"

"I didn't say I was scared, I said I was apprehensive."

"Po-tay-to, po-tah-to. You know what I mean."

She dropped her gaze to her lap, tearing her eyes away from his. She couldn't put her anxieties and enthusiasm and anticipation and fears into words; it was a first for her, and she knew she wasn't handling it well. Booth's concern escalated to alarm when she remained silent. He swallowed the lump that was gathering in his throat before choking out his next question.

"Do you want to have this baby?"

His words hit Brennan hard and, for the umpteenth time that week, she began to cry. As her eyes welled with tears, and Booth's heart sank when he saw a tear drop into her lap, darkening the red fabric of her dress to the shade of blood.

"More than anything," she whispered. Booth felt relieve wash over him and let out a soft, breathy laugh, beaming at her. He reached out and wiped away her tears with his thumb. It tickled and she couldn't help but laugh softly, her glistening eyes meeting his as Booth's hand rested on her cheek. She lifted her own hand and held his hand to her cheek, sighing.

"Then what's the problem?"

"The boundaries of our relationship are unclear to me, and that makes me uncomfortable adding a new variable to the equation."

"And the new variable is the baby?"

"Yes." Her hand dropped to her lap again and he rested his free hand on his own knee, his other hand still intertwined with her own. He gently squeezed her hand. "I just—I am uncomfortable not knowing."

"Not knowing what?" He asked, a slight frown on his face. Brennan studied him for a moment. She knew he would do anything for her, and that she loved him more deeply and passionately than she ever had anyone before. She knew little about being in a monogamous relationship, but she did know that she never wanted to do or say or assume anything that might put that relationship in jeopardy.

She needed to know.

"What are we, Booth?" she asked, tilting her head slightly to one side.

"What do you—"

"I mean, are we just parners? Are we friends who occasionally choose to make love? Are we dating? Are we romantically monogamous? Am I a rebound rela—"

"Whoa Bones," Booth startled, his eyes wide as though he'd touched a bare electrical wire. "Don't ever, _ever_ think for a _second_ that you are a rebound relationship."

"But that's the definition, right? Angela says it takes half of the time you went out with someone to get over them. Not enough time has elapsed since Hannah, ipso facto Colombo Oreo—" Booth took her other hand in his and drew a breath.

"Bones, I told you almost three weeks ago that I'm not angry anymore. Okay? I'm completely over Hannah, and I know now that placing my happiness in her was a bad gamble. Besides, Bones," he looked into her eyes and she saw regret there. She shifted her weight, listening intently, not sure what she was about to hear. "It was never about Hannah, or any other woman. It's always been you. You're it. You're the standard, and one of my biggest regrets is not going after you that night at the Hoover, and not making a stronger case for us being together. These last couple of weeks have been so wonderful that I've felt like I'm living in a dream, because I have wanted us to be 'us' for so long that I almost can't believe it's happening."

"I have felt that way, too," Brennan breathed, tearing up again. She made a mental not to ask Dr. Burkett if these displays of emotion were normal during pregnancy. "So we're an 'us' now? What does that mean?" Booth grinned at her.

"It means that the delirious happiness that we've been feeling doesn't have to end," he said simply. "I have told you before, Temperance, that I love you so deeply I can't put it into words. And I want to keep loving you _and_ our baby in every way for another 30 or 40 or 50 years." Brennan nodded. She understood that the metaphorical ball was in her court now.

"Actually," she said, the corner of her lip twitching upward, "I would prefer 60 years."

Booth was so overcome with elation that he couldn't help himself; he closed the distance between them and kissed her with as much love and joy and passion and promise that he could muster, and when they pulled apart, her hand was playing with the hair at the nape of his neck as they rested their foreheads together. Brennan was breathless and flushed, but she took two deep breaths to steady herself.

"I love you, Booth," she whispered.

"I love you too, Temperance," he said softly. Then he broke their contact when he bent down level with her abdomen and looked up at her. She smiled softly, silently granting permission, and he laid a hand on her abdomen. "I love you, too, little one."

"So just to clarify," she said. "We are in a monogamous, intimate, long-term relationship?"

"If you'll have me," he smiled, eyebrows raised.

She answered him with a soft, chaste kiss.

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><p>And that is the reaction scene as I imagined. I know I'm probably going to get some flak from you all for insinuating that Brennan was pregnant by another baby daddy, but that's my best guess, aside from sheer surprise, as to why Booth took forever to react to that bit of news.<p>

Okay, that's all for now!

Liria.


	3. Chapter 3

I cannot believe how many reviews you all have submitted! I love it! Thank you so much for your feedback, I really appreciate it and it makes my writing better. So then, without further ado, chapter 3:

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><p>CHAPTER 3<p>

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><p>"<em>So just to clarify," she said. "We are in a monogamous, intimate, long-term relationship?"<em>

"_If you'll have me," he smiled, eyebrows raised. _

_She answered him with a soft, chaste kiss. _

When they broke apart, she felt like she couldn't stop smiling.

"I'm going to make some tea," she said, still grinning. He stood with her. "Would you like anything?"

"I could use a glass of water," he said, "but I can get it."

When they were settled at the kitchen table with their drinks, Booth cleared his throat. There were still some things that needed to be discussed.

"So, uh, how far along are you?"

"The embryo is 18 days old, give or take a day. With the rate of travel of sperm and the speed of ovum peristalsis through the fallopian tubes, it's hard to pinpoint an exact date. I have technically been pregnant for between 14 and 16 days," she smiled at the awed expression on Booth's face. "It's really just a ball of cells right now, but starting next week, the embryo will start to form organs."

"Wow," he said, still wrapping his head around the idea that Bones was pregnant with his child. "So when did you find out? How long have you known?" His face brimmed with curiosity, and even though he was asking questions, Brennan laughed because they were out of a kind of giddy excitement and inquisitiveness rather than the focused questioning he used during interrogations.

"I found out the morning that this case began," she said. "I had missed my period, but the pregnancy was too early to detect on a home pregnancy test. I decided to schedule an appointment with my gynecologist to confirm."

"Oh, _that_'_s_ why you refused the coffee?" She only smiled in response. "Why didn't you just tell me?"

"I—I didn't know the right time, and I wasn't sure how you'd react. This is very, very early in our relationship. In addition, we had a new case, as well as Angela going into labor," she said sheepishly. "Though I must admit, I did not like being dishonest with you. A lie of omission is still a lie."

"I'm not upset with you, Bones," Booth said reassuringly, reaching under the table and giving her thigh a gentle squeeze. "You did everything right." She smiled at this, glad that even in the chaos of the last few days she seemed to have handled everything relatively well.

"I have all of my obstetric visits scheduled," she blurted out, "My OB/GYN has a very busy schedule, so it was necessary to get appointments figured out as soon as possible. Pregnancy requires a strict timeline of prenatal visits. I don't know whether convention dictates that we choose the obstetrician together, but Dr. Burkett is the best, and I think you will like her." Booth had to smile at this. He would have expected no less from Bones. "I will get you a list of the appointments, if you'd like to come with me?" she asked.

"Of course I'm coming with you. Wow," he said for the umpteenth time that evening, a dreamy look washing over his face. Brennan smiled, relieved beyond compare that she was with such a phenomenal man who would be a wonderful father to their child.

Brennan yawned then, and Booth insisted that she go to sleep. It was nearly 1:30 am, and it had been a long week for her, but there were still a few matters she wanted to have straightened out before she slept. Particularly, how they would approach telling people about their relationship as well as the pregnancy.

It took very little convincing for them both to agree not to tell anyone about the pregnancy until the end of the first trimester, in case (Booth shuddered at the thought) something went wrong in that time. For the time being, they would allow this to only be theirs. An exception was made, of course, for Angela, because Booth knew that Brennan would want to be able to tell her best friend, and that she needed the support from someone who had been down this metaphorical road before.

As far as their relationship was concerned, they decided not to make an announcement, but instead chose to be more open about their relationship as long as they weren't working. It was important to Brennan that her coworkers, and especially Max and Russ, were given time to cope with the idea of them being intimate before dropping what Booth had called "the Baby Bomb" on them. This way, she reasoned, they—specifically, Max—would be much less likely to lash out irrationally.

"Does this mean I can kiss you in your office when I come to pick you up for lunch?" Booth had asked. Brennan considered it. The idea of intimate contact in her workplace didn't sit well, but technically her lunch break did not count as working hours. When she agreed (albeit reluctantly), Booth had whooped excitedly and punched the air in victory.

"Why is that so important to you?" she asked, finishing the last of her tea and standing to wash the mug in the sink. Booth followed with his own empty glass.

"Because it just is," was the best response he could come up with, and she looked at him with a raised eyebrow but accepted his answer without question.

"Speaking of work," she said, leaving her mug on the drying rack and swiftly taking Booth's glass from his hand and washing it before he had a chance to protest. "What are we going to do about our work partnership?" Booth's head snapped around to look at her, and her eyes were searching his again.

"You do still want to be partners, Bones, right?" He asked.

"Of course," she said, "but in light of our relationship status, I am anxious that one of your superiors will terminate our partnership."

"Nah, we'll be okay," Booth said. Brennan finished washing the glass and dried her hands with a towel, turning and leaning her back against the counter. She glanced sideways at him with one eyebrow raised.

"How can you be certain?" A smirk rose to Booth's face.

"Sweets," he said simply. "He's the one who can send in the recommendation that our partnership be terminated. I'm sure he'll just keep us in therapy for a while longer, because, you know, he likes us—"

"Well, he is our baby duck, so to speak," Brennan grinned at him.

"Yeah, well, I bet that Sweets will just use it as an excuse to see us more often, but he wouldn't recommend that our partnership be terminated."

"So more likely than not, we will be able to stay partners?" Booth slung an arm around her shoulders and pulled her in towards him. She looked up at him.

"Yep, nothing's gonna get between us, baby!" Brennan pursed her lips slightly when he called her "baby," but she said nothing. He began to walk, steering her toward her bedroom. "Now come on, you need to get some sleep, okay Bones?" Just before they reached her bedroom door, she stopped and turned toward him.

"What about going out into the field?" Booth scoffed and gave a small shrug.

"Well, that's out of the question," he said matter-of-factly. "There is no way that I'm gonna let you put yourself, and the baby, in danger like that. You will just have to train Wendell to go out into the field instead."

"But Booth, examining crime scenes, that's not hazardous to the baby's health. I would essentially be doing the same examination inside the lab, and a change in location will hardly add a risk," she argued. "And our colleagues will know something is up the second you refuse to allow me in the field." Booth groaned. This was something that he couldn't deny.

"So what should we do?"

"I propose a compromise," Brennan said simply. "I will continue to go into the field to examine remains and question witnesses in the setting of the FBI building. However, I will forego being present for the apprehension of the subject and, according to your perceived danger level of the case in question, I will not go with you to bring suspects in for questioning." Booth ran this through his head. It was a good idea from where he stood. "And after the pregnancy is announced, you can take my interns into the field to assist as you see fit."

"So you're asking me to use my judgment to determine when you go into the field?"

"Yes," she said, smiling. "Your judgment has proven excellent in the past, and I trust that you will be able to set reasonable restrictions and still allow me to accompany into the field without arousing the suspicion of my coworkers." Booth grinned at her.

"I like it when compliment me," he said. "And as far as the squinterns go, why don't you bring Wendell into the field with you on our next case? That way he'll be decent by the time I have to use him for real?"

"So, I would be covertly training him?"

"In a manner of speaking."

"But what about the other interns? There is a rotation, and there's just as much of a chance that our cases will occur with Clark, Daisy, Arastoo, or Mr. Fischer. Shall I train them as well?"

"Oh, no, no," Booth said quickly. "I like Wendell, he's a good kid. We get along and interact well."

"How is that fair to the others?"

"It isn't. But it is fair to me," he said, putting on a toned-down version of his charm smile.

"Well, didn't Wendell request to put in extra hours at the lab?"

"Because he's financially destitute, yes."

"Okay, so Wendell can earn his hours by going out into the field with me." Brennan nodded slowly, processing this information.

"That is acceptable. I suppose that if the other interns question the situation, I will still be able to reassure them that I have no favorites among them. I will just tell them that Wendell is your favorite. They are less likely to question you."

"Why?"

"Because while I am their intellectual superior, you are the one with the gun." Brennan smiled at him as he laughed, and then without being able to stop it, a huge yawn put the conversation to a halt.

"C'mon, Bones, let's get you to bed," Booth said gently, his hand at the small of her back as he led her into her bedroom. He lingered in the doorway as she dug into a drawer for her pajamas. With a twinkle in her eye, she turned to face him.

"You're welcome to stay," she told him, hoping that he would accept the offer. A smile crept up to his face and he nodded.

"Of course, Bones," he said, putting his hands into his pockets. "You still have the spare toothbrush that I used last time?"

"Yes," she said, going into her bathroom and closing the door quietly. "I'll get it out for you." She emerged shortly in her pajamas, her face makeup-free, and saw Booth sitting on the edge of her bed, waiting. He smiled and stood.

"So, just to clarify," he said, eyebrows raised, repeating her phrase from earlier. "When you invited me to stay, were you inviting me to share your bed?"

"Yes," she said, suddenly frowning. "Though I am too tired for intercourse tonight. Is that okay?" Booth grinned back at her, the mother of his unborn child, and he leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

"That is more than okay," he said. The amount of love that shone through his warm eyes was striking, an irresistible feeling of peace came over her as he turned to use the bathroom before bed. Turning out the bedroom light and turning on the lamp, she pulled back the covers and crawled into bed and curled up on her side with an arm under the pillow. Brennan was barely semiconscious of her left arm resting gently on her abdomen, and she couldn't help feeling a swell of sheer joy and exhilaration at the developments of the day. Her best friend was a mother, the happiest Brennan could ever remember seeing her, and now Brennan was on that path herself. She was in a truly loving relationship with the best man that she had ever known, and now there was tangible proof of that love rooted solidly in her endometrial tissue, developing into a child.

Her rational mind knew that not all babies were conceived out of love. But this one had been. On that life-changing evening, after Booth caught up to Brodsky, he had showed her what it was to be deeply adored and cherished. They had made love for the first time, and it was unlike anything Brennan had ever experienced. She smiled at Booth as he emerged from the bathroom, shutting off the light. He returned the smile before stripping to his boxers and climbing into bed behind her. As she clicked off the bedside lamp, she felt Booth's arm cautiously snake around her waist. She laid back down and allowed Booth hug her to him, his hand resting over hers on her abdomen.

"I like this," she noted out loud, settling into the pillows.

"What?" Booth murmured into her hair.

But she didn't answer, because Temperance Brennan had fallen asleep in his arms.

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><p>Let me know what you think!<p>

Liria


	4. Chapter 4

Hey, all! I'm absolutely thrilled about all of your reviews and feedback. You all rock, but I do have some favorite comments. Thank you to everyone who says I'm keeping everything in character; that is my number one priority in every fic that I have written, so I can trust you to let me know if you think I'm veering off course, okay? My favorite comment from a reviewer was Trishf42's "Ha, thank you! Finally a fic that lets Bones be a mother and a lover and keep her brain." So true! This is fanfiction, and as such every author has the right to make the characters do whatever they feel like, and that's fine, but I was also tired of reading fics in which Brennan got pregnant and her IQ subsequently dropped several points.

I also wanted to throw in a quick "teaching point" to clarify how the timeline pregnancy is determined, because the system is just stupid. Back in the day when they didn't have ultrasounds, the only way to estimate gestational age was from the date of the woman's last period. So even though the missed period is two weeks after _conception_, the woman is considered to be in her _fourth week of pregnancy_ (even though technically the embryo is 2 weeks old and has only been actually implanted for a week). This also means that pregnancy lasts 38 weeks, not 40. Why the medical system has not changed this, I do not know.

Okay. On to the next chapter.

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><p>CHAPTER 4<p>

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><p>A sudden shrill chirping from Brennan's cell phone startled her as she stood over a table with Arastoo, working on identifying a set of remains from limbo. Booth hadn't brought them a new case since the one at her father's bowling alley, and with Angela and Hodgins both out for the remainder of the week after their son was born, things around the lab were very quiet.<p>

She pulled her phone from her pocket and saw her calendar alert was flashing across the screen. Turning off the alarm and replacing the phone in the pocket of her lab coat, she turned to Arastoo.

"Mr. Vaziri, I must leave early today. When you have finished identifying the remains, please be sure to leave the report on my desk for me to look over when I return tomorrow," she said.

"Will do, Dr. Brennan," he said, but she had already turned and sped off the platform and into her office, where she shed her lab coat, transferred her phone to her bag along with several of her grad student's papers that required grading, and left her office to find Cam.

It was 3pm on a Friday, and her first prenatal appointment was in only half an hour. It had been five days since she had confided in Booth about her pregnancy, but that time had passed without incident. She busied herself with identifying remains left in modular bone storage, as well as completing the various small tasks Cam asked of her. She missed the presence of her best friend, but Angela would be out on maternity leave for the next six weeks, but was grateful, at least, that Hodgins would be back the next week. She spoke to Angela almost every day on the phone, and as it was Friday she was planning to visit later that day.

She hadn't decided whether to tell Angela yet about the pregnancy. She knew that this was Michael's time, as Booth had phrased it, time for Angela and Hodgins to celebrate their newest addition. She wanted to let them have that time.

Rounding the corner to Cam's office, she found the coroner sitting at her computer, the keyboard clacking as she hastily typed something. Brennan entered the office and Cam looked over at her.

"Hey, what's up?" Cam asked, resting her hands in her lap.

"I wanted to inform you that I am leaving for the day."

"You usually don't leave this early, is everything okay?" she asked, frowning. Brennan shifted her weight and nodded.

"Of course, I just have a routine medical exam. I will likely be in tomorrow on time, so you can fill me in on whatever I have missed then."

"Actually, Dr. Brennan, I will be out for the weekend. Michelle and I are taking a weekend trip to New York City to go shopping. Our flight out is tonight and I won't be back into work until Monday. So I will see you then," she smiled.

"Yes," Brennan said. "Have fun on your trip." And with that, she turned and left the office. Her steps quickened; this was a very important appointment, and she didn't want to be late. She passed by the platform and down the hall. One of the day guards, Nick, smiled and nodded in acknowledgment when she passed. Nick seemed to be the only one at the Jeffersonian who realized that she and Booth were in a relationship. On Wednesday, while she was walking out of the lab with Booth, he had taken her hand and they had shared a chaste kiss of greeting in the hallway, and Nick had seen. The two of them had assumed that he would tell someone, but so far, neither Cam nor any of the interns had showed an inkling of the kiss.

Brennan walked into the bright sunshine and made her way to her car. True to his word (even though she had told him that this appointment would be all about her and not so much the embryo), Booth had wanted to come to the appointment and agreed to meet her at the office. The drive to Dr. Burkett's office building was uncomplicated by traffic, and she arrived in the waiting room five minutes early to find that Booth was already waiting for her.

"Hey!" he said, sounding excited as he bent down and kissed her in greeting. "I saved you a seat." She smiled at him.

"Let me sign in and I'll be right there." No sooner had she signed in and sat down next to Booth did Joani's pleasant face appeared at the door to the clinic space and announced that she was ready for her. Booth and Brennan both stood and made their way over to the blond.

"Hello, Joani," Brennan greeted the younger woman, who smiled back.

"It is good to see you, Dr. Brennan. I trust everything has been well since your last visit." She led Brennan and Booth back to an exam room, turned one of the flags next to the door, asked that Booth sit tight while she got Brennan's height and weight.

"If you don't mind me asking, is he your boyfriend?" Joani asked as she jotted Brennan's weight into the chart.

"We are together, yes," Brennan replied, and they made their way back into the exam room.

"Well, congratulations," Joani said. Back in the exam room, she took Brennan's blood pressure, pulse, and temperature before jotting the results on the clipboard and returning it to the plastic cubby on the outside of the door. She then reached into the cupboard above the sink and retrieved a pale pink gown. She handed it to Brennan. "Go ahead and get that on, and Dr. Burkett will be in to see you in a few minutes."

With that, the blond disappeared out the door, closing it carefully behind her. Brennan set her purse onto a nearby chair and promptly pulled her top over her head.

"Whoa, Bones! A little warning, please!" Booth had turned flung his arm over his eyes and turned to face the wall, his back to her. Brennan laughed.

"Well, I have to disrobe, Booth. This is going to be a very thorough appointment," she said, now shedding her bra. "Besides, you've seen me naked several times before. As I recall, you seemed to enjoy it." She slipped her arms through the gown and tied it in the back before slipping off her skirt and panties. "You can turn around now." Booth turned around to see Brennan barefoot in her gown, carefully folding her clothing into a neat pile on the chair with her purse.

"What are they going to do at this appointment again?" He asked, standing at her side as she sat nonchalantly on the edge of the examination table, the paper crinkling under her.

"I told you, Booth," she said, turning to look at him. "Dr. Burkett will take a family history to determine whether certain genetic screening tests are necessary, she will do a physical and pelvic examination, take blood and urine samples to determine whether my antibody titers to certain diseases require further treatment, and counsel me on any lifestyle modifications that might be necessary during the pregnancy."

"But no ultrasound this time, right?"

"No," she shook her head. "The embryo's heart will not start to beat for approximately 2 more weeks. We can see it at the next prenatal visit in one month." His heart melted at her excited smile, and he grinned at the thought that in one month, they could hear their baby's heart beat and he would get fuzzy black-and-white pictures for his wallet that he would not be able to make heads or tails of, but that would signify the fact that he and Bones were having a baby.

"You will probably find this boring, Booth," Brennan said. "But I find that I'm glad you are here." They shared a smile and he took her hand, squeezing it gently.

"I'm just glad to be involved, and I want to support you in any way that I can." Still smiling, Brennan sat up and stretched her neck to kiss Booth's cheek.

"Thank you." They shared a quiet moment before there was a knock on the door. "Come in," Brennan said, releasing Booth's hand as Dr. Burkett's smiling face appeared through the dor.

"Dr. Brennan, it's great to see you," she said, shaking Brennan's hand.

"You too, Dr. Burkett," Brennan grinned, and turned to look at Booth. "This is Special Agent Seeley Booth, he's the father of the embryo." Booth cringed inside. Something about the phrase 'father of the embryo' didn't quite seem right to him, but he shook the physician's hand and gave her a friendly smile.

"Pleasure to meet you, Dr. Burkett," he said. "I have heard so many good things about you." When he let go of the handshake, he took Brennan's hand into his own again. He didn't see the smile that this action elicited.

"Well, thank you, Agent Booth," she said as she reviewed the file quickly. "I heard good things about you as well. It's good to meet you." Dr. Burkett looked over at Brennan and addressed her directly. "Alright, Dr. Brennan, we have a lot of ground to cover today, but this visit will be comprised of three components: the physical exams, the history and lifestyle portion, and the urine and blood draws. In what order would you prefer to do them?"

Booth could see why Brennan took such a liking to this particular physician. She seemed to be excellent at reading people, picking up cues from body language and conversations and matching those cues with the appropriate demeanor to best help her patients. He had imagined that Brennan might be a difficult patient for most medical professionals to deal with, but this appointment seemed to run effortlessly.

Brennan had been right. The appointment lasted a full hour and involved a female-specific medical procedures that he did not, in any way, shape, or form, _ever_ want to know about (he had been sure to sit near Brennan's head for the duration of that particular exam). Booth was also amazed by how little discomfort Brennan was expressing. He knew that his partner had the pain tolerance of a gladiator, but he couldn't help but wonder if part of her lack of reactivity was for his sake.

Brennan took every opportunity to ask the physician about what she needed to be doing to have a healthy pregnancy. Could she stay a vegetarian? What exactly should she be eating, and how often? What kind of exercises were safe for her? How would her body's requirements for sleep, nutrition, and hydration change? What substances should she be avoiding? She left the appointment feeling very satisfied with the answers she had received and confident in her knowledge of these new limitations.

The two of them left the office building as the clock struck 5:00 and decided to grab an early supper at the diner—which was only four blocks away—before they went their separate ways for the evening. It was Booth's weekend with Parker, and they were planning on telling him that they were seeing each other the next day. Until then, both thought it wise to sleep at their own places, until Parker was more comfortable with the idea.

They sat at their usual table in the diner, waiting for Ruby (their usual waitress) to take their order. Like Nick the security guard, Ruby knew about the change in their relationship and had made it a point to express to the two of them how thrilled she was even though she lost $50 in a bet with some of the other waitresses there. They settled into their table and ordered their usual cheeseburger, French fries, soup and salad.

"Your appointment seemed to go well," Booth said, "It was much more… invasive than I thought it would be."

"A thorough pelvic exam is necessary, to make sure everything is structurally intact and free of abnormality or infection," she said, shrugging matter-of-factly and sipping her glass of water.

"I get that, but won't jostling your lady parts around like that upset the baby?"

"No more than our lovemaking does." Booth was unprepared for this comment, and promptly responded by inhaling a lot of his water and coughing violently. Genuine concern appeared in her eyes as she made her way to his side and thumped his back precisely at the thoracolumbar junction using and upward motion, attempting the help him clear his lungs. "Are you okay?"

"Fine—" he choked out, still coughing, his eyes tearing up now. "Yeah, I'm fine, I just wasn't expecting that answer."

"You've known me for a long time, Booth," she said, handing him a tissue from her purse. He took it and dabbed the tears from his eyes.

"Any yet, you can still surprise me," he said. Their food arrived and they ate, enjoying each other's company. Brennan called Angela to let her know she would be stopping by in about an hour's time, and it wasn't until she hung up the phone that she looked up to see Booth smiling at her, starry-eyed.

"Why are you looking at me like that," she asked him softly, tucking the phone back into her purse. He only smiled.

"I am just thinkin' about you going over to visit Angela and Hodgins, and holding their baby, and how that's gonna be us soon," he said, and she couldn't keep her own face from melting into a very un-Brennan-like smile.

"It will be us in February," Brennan said.

"February 2nd," Booth said with an almost dreamy expression on his face. A moment later he seemed to snap out of it. They stood to pay the check, having finished their meals, and he took her hand in his as she made to walk past, and she turned to face him. He was still grinning. "Bones, have I told you today that I love you?"

"Yes, this morning before you left for work," she told him, their fingers still laced together. "But I find that I enjoy hearing you say it."

"Temperance Brennan," he said, "you are an amazing woman, and I love you," he told her with the raw sincerity in his eyes that made her feel weak at the knees, which was a psychological phenomenon she had never understood before she met Booth.

She whispered, "I love you, too," before they closed the gap between them and their lips met in a short kiss that had just enough passion to convey their affection for one another, but was not inappropriate for a public display of affection.

They broke apart and Booth saw that Brennan's eyes were twinkling with happiness, and his heart swelled with pride that he had caused that reaction in her. He squeezed her hand.

"C'mon," he said, nodding toward the door. "Let's take care of this check and get you to Angela's."

When Brennan turned around, though, she let out a tiny "oh!" of surprise and heard Booth groan softly. Standing there, by the counter and clearly waiting for a takeout order, was Sweets. His face was contorted with a mixture of utter surprise and excitement, his mouth slightly agape. Very quickly, he pursed his lips, raised his eyebrows, and rearranged his face into an unmistakable expression that clearly read 'you've got a lot of explaining to do.'

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><p>Okay, that's all for now! Next up will be Brennan's visit with Angela.<p>

I always love to hear your feedback, so please review! I'm cool with flames if that's how you feel, and they will be addressed in subsequent postings.

I'm also toying with the idea of changing the name of the story. I'm not sure I will, but if I do, I will let you know in the authors notes _before_ it happens so that, if you are a regular reader, you'll be able to locate it easily. Alternatively, you could just look for my name, as this is the only story I have active.

Later, gators!

Liria247


	5. Chapter 5

I am stunned by the number of reviews I've received! Thank you so much for taking the time to write them and, more importantly, for taking the time to read this.

A few comments before we start with Chapter 5. First of all, I've had some free time in the last few days to write, but I have a massive, comprehensive exam coming up next month and it's crunch time, folks. I will update when I can (most likely once or twice a week because hey, everyone needs a study break), but updates will be farther between. Also, for those of you who wanted Sweets' reaction, I promise it will happen, it just could be a while. In response to MickeyBoggs' comment, I know an on-time doctor's appointment was totally OOC, my bad. I guess that one slipped ;-)

Okay, then, let's get to it!

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><p>CHAPTER 5<p>

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><p><em>When Brennan turned around, though, she let out a tiny "oh!" of surprise and heard Booth groan softly. Standing there, by the counter and clearly waiting for a takeout order, was Sweets. His face was contorted with a mixture of utter surprise and excitement, his mouth slightly agape. Very quickly, he pursed his lips, raised his eyebrows, and rearranged his face into an unmistakable expression that clearly read 'you've got a lot of explaining to do.'<em>

Booth glanced at Brennan with a sly look in his eye, and Brennan knew the look to mean 'follow my lead.' Hands still intertwined, both started for the door, smiling at Sweets.

"Oh hiya Sweets," Booth said cheerfully, as Brennan quickly paid the check at the counter. Booth approached the younger man—who was still holding that look on his face—and clapped him solidly on the shoulder. "We'd love to stay and chat, but, you know, it's Friday night. Got places to be," he started toward the door.

"Agent Booth?" But the way Sweets said it, this was more of a demand for information than a question. His eyes darted between Brennan and Booth, expecting one of them to respond.

"Have an enjoyable weekend, Dr. Sweets," Brennan said, as if she hadn't even heard him, brushing past him and heading for the door.

"Dr. Brennan," he said loudly, "Agent Booth!" But by then, he was talking to their backs. Closing his mouth, he clenched his jaw and rolled his eyes up to the ceiling in frustration, his takeout meal forgotten on the counter.

Brennan and Booth left the diner side-by-side, and they made it across the street before both burst into laughter. Brennan linked her arm through Booth's and she leaned into his side as they walked down the sidewalk.

"That," Booth said, "was priceless. We're gonna have hell to pay at our session on Tuesday."

"I don't know what that means," she said, looking up at him curiously.

"It means he's not happy with us and so he's gonna do something shrinky to get back at us."

"He's not happy that we are together?" Brennan asked, frowning.

"No, no, he's ticked because we didn't run and tell him first-thing. But no biggie, he'll get over it." Booth said. "One thing's for sure, though."

"What's that?"

"Everyone will know we're together by the end of the night." Brennan tilted her head to the side, processing. To her own surprise, she found that she was fine with the idea of everybody knowing about the changes in their relationship. After all, they were, as Booth had put it earlier, a 'different kind of family.'

After several minutes they reached the parking garage outside of Dr. Burkett's office to retrieve their vehicles. They bid each other goodnight, with the promise of a phone call later that night to discuss plans for the tomorrow, and then with a quick kiss they went their separate ways.

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><p>Brennan headed to Angela's and Hodgins' new apartment, the one that had once been a crime scene in a murder investigation, after stopping by her own place to retrieve the pan of vegetarian lasagna she had made the day before. Booth had informed her that it was customary when one dealt with birth, death, or illness in the family, that the friends and loved ones prepared meals that could easily be reheated. Her understanding was that this way, the affected family would not have to worry about preparing meals, and while she remained partly unconvinced that a lasagna was an appropriate gift for the occasion, Booth had always guided her in the right direction in social matters.<p>

When she knocked on the door, it flung open within seconds and Angela grinned at her, wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants, hair pulled into a ponytail.

"Sweetie, I'm so glad you're here!" she said, looking genuinely relieved by Brennan's presence, and as Brennan stepped past her best friend and into the apartment, she was surprised to see that Angela's eyes were red-rimmed and glassy. Angela hugged her tightly, and Brennan returned the hug the best she could without sending the pan in her hand crashing to the floor.

"I'm so happy to see you," Brennan said. She held out the lasagna to Angela, unsure of what exactly to say. "Booth said you might like this. Apparently it's a social custom to which I am not accustomed."

"Is this lasagna? Oh, thank you sweetie. It's perfect." She took the pan out of Brennan's hands and the two of them went into the kitchen, where Angela stuck the pan into the refrigerator. "Do you want anything to drink?"

"No, thank you," Brennan said. "How is Michael?" Angela gave her a small smile, but something about it looked almost sad to Brennan.

"He's perfect, He's sleeping now," she said.

"Then what is it that's upsetting you? Is it Hodgins?" Brennan asked.

"What? No, not at all, I love Hodgins. What makes you think I'm upset?"

"Your eyes look as though you have been crying, and you look pale," Brennan softened her expression and reached out to lay a comforting hand on Angela's arm. "Are you alright, Ange?"

Somewhere inside of Angela, a dam seemed to break and she only answered Brennan's question with two silent tears that streamed down her cheeks. The artist took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure.

"It's nothing, it's stupid," she said.

"Clearly it is not stupid if you are this upset," Brennan said gently. "Perhaps we should talk in the living room." Angela sniffed and grabbed a nearby, battered-looking box of tissues before leading the way into the other room.

"This is going to sound awful," Angela said, pulling a tissue from the box and dabbing her eyes a she and Brennan sat on the sofa. "It's just—ever since we brought Michael home, I've felt so awful. I haven't been sleeping, and I cry at everything, I'm nervous all the time," she sniffed again, and Brennan laid a hand on Angela's knee in what she hoped was a comforting gesture. "And the worst thing about it is that I don't feel connected to my own child."

The admission sent Angela over the edge and she began to sob uncontrollably. Brennan hugged her best friend, and it took several minutes for her to calm down. Brennan made the decision then that this was not the right time to disclose her pregnancy. Eventually, Angela pulled back from the embrace and tugged several more tissues from the box, dabbing at her eyes and blowing her nose.

"I watch Jack with the baby," Angela continued, "and it seems like they just have this _bond_. When I hold him, I don't feel like I have that," she looked at Brennan with tearful eyes. "I can't control how I'm feeling, but I feel so guilty for it. I feel like a horrible mother," she sniffed back a sob and Brennan gave her a small smile, shaking her head.

"Ange, you dote on your son. You love him and you would do anything for him. You are an excellent mother." Angela looked up at her with a small smile on her face.

"But the way that I'm feeling—"

"That is just a result of the sudden withdrawal of estrogen, progesterone, and endorphins that the placenta produced during pregnancy. It happens in 80% of new mothers, and it should subside in under 2 weeks. You will be back to normal soon." Angela smiled weakly and wiped the last of her tears from her face.

"Thanks, Bren," she said. Angela took a few moments to regain her composure. "So how are things with you and Booth?" she asked. Brennan slowly smiled; it was the sort of smile that made the apples of her cheeks tingle with exertion. Angela recognized it as her 'I'm-holding-something-very-important-back' smile, but before she could respond, a weak cry emanated from the baby monitor on the end table behind her. She immediately hopped to her feet.

"You are _so_ not off the hook yet, sweetie," she said, grinning as she turned and made her way down the hallway. Brennan stood, too, unsure at first of whether she should follow Angela. It was sheer curiosity that drove her to maneuver around the sofa and down the back hallway a few paces behind her best friend.

She lingered in the doorway to the nursery and watched as Angela reached into the crib and scooped up the tiny infant, clothed in a simple white onesie, his tiny arms flailing in discomfort. Brennan watched Angela evaluate her child, taking in everything her best friend was doing with an almost analytical intensity. Angela seemed to have a system down: she checked her son's diaper, then flipped open a journal that rested on the nearby rocking chair and ran her finger down the page before simply settling the infant in her arms, rocking him gently before he soothed and was quiet again. Angela looked over at her.

"Bren, you can come in," she told her, and Brennan stepped into the nursery. The décor was almost breathtaking; Angela had truly put an incredible amount of effort into the jungle-themed nursery, which was complete with an impeccably detailed three-wall mural depicting a rainforest scene.

"You seem to have a very systematic way of assessing Michael's needs," she observed, and Angela smiled and gave a one-shoulder shrug.

"Yeah, well, it's the best way I know to stop him from crying as quickly as possible," she laughed. "Diaper, feeding schedule, attention. That's how it goes."

"Oh," Brennan said simply "That makes sense."

"Thank you." There was a pause as both women looked at the tiny baby in Angela's arms, and Brennan couldn't help but smile.

"He really is beautiful, Ange," she said, and it was even more true today than it had been the day he was born. His skull plates had begun to settle into a normal opinion, and he looked much less like a Mayan child, a culture in which the skull was bound between two pieces of wood for the first years of life until a permanent conical shape was attained. This shape was oddly similar to the shape Michael's skull had taken as a result of passing through the birth canal.

Booth had told her not to ever mention the association to Angela, and so she kept quiet.

"Would you like to hold him?" Angela asked softly.

"Wouldn't it disturb him? You just successfully consoled him," she said, even though she found that she did want to hold the infant.

"Meh," Angela said nonchalantly. "If he starts crying again, you can give him back. So, that would be a yes?" Brennan hesitated.

"I would like that very much," she said, and before she knew it, her arms were folded as though her body knew exactly what it was supposed to do, and Angela was transferring her son into Brennan's arms. She shifted her arms so that Michael's head rested in the crook of her arm, her other arm wrapping around the infant's other side and comfortably anchoring the child to her.

Michael stirred, but did not wake, his tiny chest rising and falling with each breath. Brennan couldn't help but gaze into his face with wonder and anticipation. She knew rationally that this was not her child, but somehow the warm weight of the tiny bundle triggered a reaction in her, and she could feel her body's release of endorphins sending feelings of peace and happiness and utter contentment through her bloodstream. She relaxed into the cushioned rocking chair.

In approximately 8 months, she would be holding her own child in her arms, just like this, with Booth right by her side cooing nonsensically at the child in a language that she didn't comprehend. Standing here, holding Angela's child, her fears and anxieties about her pregnancy seemed to evaporate, leaving nothing but joy and anticipation in its wake.

"Awww, look at you, Bren," Angela said, looking excited. "You're totally a natural at this!"

"Technically, Angela, all women are programmed to know how to respond to an infant."

"Oh, no, don't go all anthro on me right now," the artist said, holding up a hand in protest. "It's okay to like babies, sweetie. And speaking of which, you never did finish telling me about how things are with Booth." Brennan's head snapped up, and she felt her heart rate quicken.

"Why would babies make you think of Booth?" Brennan asked, making an effort to keep her voice as calm and modulated as possible. Her mind raced. Could Angela know? _How _could she know? They hadn't seen each other all week. She knew that Booth hadn't said anything, he wanted _her_ to be the one to tell Angela about her pregnancy. Then it struck her: what if Sweets had called Angela after she and Booth had left the diner?

"Because you have wanted to have a baby with Booth for years, and now that you two are doin' the deed…." Angela's voice trailed off as Brennan rose from the chair. She handed Michael back to his mother, looking at Angela with an expectant gaze, waiting for her to finish her sentence. "Let's just say that this little one needs a playmate." Angela smirked at her, crossing the room and gently placing her sleeping child back in his crib.

"I thought that was why you and Hodgins moved to this apartment, so that your child would have a neighborhood of other children to play with. Speaking of which," she said as the two women left the nursery, closing the door behind them. "Where is Hodgins?"

"He's taking care of Cantilever business at the estate," she said, "and don't change the subject." Brennan walked with Angela back into the kitchen, still unable to decide whether she knew anything about the pregnancy.

"Booth and I have been conducting a sexual relationship, but I you already knew that," Brennan said. The two sat at the counter bar.

"Oh, I most certainly did know that," Angela said, smirking. "You gave me some _very_ satisfying details. But that is not what I'm talking about and you know it."

"We did have a conversation earlier this week during which we defined our relationship," Brennan said, and she couldn't keep the corners of her lips from twitching upward. Angela gasped, grinning through an open mouth, her eyes alight.

"Oh my goodness, are you actually dating now?"

"Not exactly," Brennan said slowly. Angela tilted her head and frowned, looking upset.

"Wait, you and Booth started sleeping together after _six years_ of pent-up sexual tension and unrequited feelings for each other, and you're telling me that you two are _just having sex_? I don't believe this. I mean, I literally do not believe that Booth would allow that."

"But that is not what I said," Brennan said, also frowning. "Booth made it clear on more than one occasion that if we became intimate, our relationship would be more than just sex."

"You told me that already. So how exactly did you define your relationship?" Brennan grinned almost shyly at her best friend.

"We have decided to engage in an intimate, monogamous, long-term relationship."

Angela's squeal of excitement was so loud that Brennan was surprised that the baby wasn't woken by the sound. Angela jumped down from the stool on which she sat and crushed Brennan into a tight hug so quickly that Brennan caught a faceful of Angela's hair as it whipped in front of her.

"Sweetie, I am so thrilled for you both," Angela said, releasing Brennan and bringing both of her palms to her chest.

"Me, too, Angela." Brennan's eyes were bright with happiness and contentment, a look which drove Angela to hug her again, albeit less maniacally than she had moments ago.

"So you're a couple? Like boyfriend/girlfriend?" Angela asked, just to make sure she had the situation right. Brennan nodded slowly, but something in her expression conveyed uncertainty.

"While those terms are technically correct, this feels—" she paused, not quite certain of her phrasing. "It feels like what Booth and I have encompasses more than the word 'boyfriend' conveys."

"Huh," Angela said, settling back onto her barstool. A furtive grin came over her face and she raised an eyebrow. "How about the word fiancé? Does that sound more accurate?" Brennan gave a faint laugh and rolled her eyes.

"Angela," she said, more as a warning than anything else.

"How about husband?" Angela laughed, and when Brennan was fully aware that Angela had been joking—well, half-joking—she smiled back. "I'm sorry, sweetie, it's just fun to picture the two of you _finally_ together. Have you told anyone?"

"I told you."

"I mean _other_ than me." Angela rested her chin on her hand and looked at her expectantly.

"Not exactly. We have decided to simply allow more public displays of affection—not during working hours, of course—and let people come to their own conclusions."

"How has that worked?"

"Well, as Booth and I have not spent much time in a social setting with everybody since we arrived at this decision, not many people know about us."

"Oooh, so who does know? Cam? The interns?"

"Actually, the only person at the Jeffersonian who seems to have detected a change in our relationship is Nick Manzo."

"The security guard?"

"Yes. And the waitresses at the Diner," Brennan paused, and remembering the look on Sweets' face earlier that evening, she couldn't help but laugh. "And Sweets. He saw us kiss earlier today."

"So then everybody knows," Angela said with certainty. Brennan looked at her, puzzled. "Oh, come on, there's no way Sweets could hold in something that juicy without his head exploding. I'm sure he has called everyone to ask about it, just to make sure he wasn't hallucinating."

"Did he call you?"

"I promise that I did not give him _any _information," she said, grinning. "Ugh, I wish I could have seen his face, though! He sounded like he was going crazy on the phone. He is beside himself that he did not see any signs of a change in your relationship sooner."

"You didn't tell him anything?"

"Of course not, Bren. He does not know what your relationship entails, and he doesn't know how long you have been together together."

"Why did you say 'together' twice."

"It's just an expression, don't worry about it," Angela said. She stood from her stool and walked around to the other side of the counter, leaning forward to face her friend. "The point is, the story is yours to tell. I did not want to spoil it."

"Thanks, Ange," Brennan said, smiling at her. "We have a session with Sweets on Tuesday, and I am certain that we will discuss the matter then. Have you said anything to Hodgins?"

"He hasn't asked. He knows that I don't like keeping things from him, and that if you hadn't mentioned it to him directly, you didn't want him to know yet. So if he has been curious, he's been hiding it. At any rate, I'm sure he knows now. For a shrink, Sweets sure can be a blabbermouth."

"I don't know what that means."

"It doesn't matter. Hey," Angela said, as though she'd had an idea. "You said you weren't spending the evening with Booth, right?"

"Yes, it's his weekend with Parker."

"So do you want to hang out here? We can kick back, watch a movie, have some quality girl time?"

"Of course, that's why I am here," Brennan said, "but I would like to request that we not watch Titanic again. I disliked that movie very much."

"You made that clear several times when we were watching it. No, we'll see something else," Angela grinned and turned, rummaging through the cabinets. She fished a corkscrew out of a drawer and set it on the counter.

Brennan froze. For a split second, her mind was devoid of thought and she felt dim-witted. She regained her composure and swallowed anxiously.

"I—I would actually prefer tea, if you don't mind. I can make it myself," Brennan stood and began to look for a coffee mug.

"Please, Bren? We haven't shared a glass of wine in _forever_, and I need to make up for lost time. Plus Jack picked up this amazing Brie cheese from the gourmet food market that will go with the wine perfectly." Two wine glasses now accompanied the corkscrew on the counter.

"I shouldn't, I drove over here." Angela turned at this, a crease appearing between her eyebrows as she set a hand on her hip.

"Okay, you don't need me to tell you that a couple of glasses of wine over the course of a few hours won't make you drunk enough to impair your driving. Besides, we could always call you a cab."

Brennan, of course, knew this already. Unsure of what she should do, what argument she could make, she shifted her weight to the other foot and bit the inside of her bottom lip, trying to keep her expression as normal-looking as possible.

"I really would prefer tea," she said in an uncharacteristically quiet voice, and Angela noticed that a tiny glint of apology appeared in Brennan's bright blue eyes. Brennan pursed her lips nervously took in a silent, sharp breath of anticipation, and then she saw a glimmer of understanding in the artist's face.

"Decaf?" Angela asked, a note of both understanding and disbelief in her voice.

Brennan didn't answer.

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><p>You know what to do, read and review!<p>

And don't worry, I'm not that cruel. Angela's reaction continues in the next chapter :-)

Later,

Liria


	6. Chapter 6

Hey all, I got a question about Angela drinking a glass of wine while breastfeeding. If you don't care, go ahead and skip right to the story. I responded individually to the reviewer, but just in case the thought had crossed your mind as well, I'm posting my response below:

In case you were curious about the alcohol while breastfeeding thing, I wanted to clarify. It is completely safe to drink while you're breastfeeding, as long as you don't drink right before you nurse. Nursing while intoxicated is poor form. It takes about half an hour for alcohol to get from the bloodstream and into the milk, but once the alcohol has cleared your bloodstream (about 2 hours later), it is no longer in the milk. Alcohol isn't stored in breastmilk, so "pumping and dumping" does zilch to clear alcohol from breastmilk. The only thing that will do that is time.

The other point here is that alcohol while pregnant has very, very different effects from alcohol while breastfeeding. In utero, you can get tons of CNS damage among other things from excessive alcohol exposure because the fetus lacks an enzyme necessary for the breakdown of alcohol, and can't protect itself from harm while vital developmental processes are happening. After the baby is born, that crucial window of development is over and there is no risk of FAS occurring. So when breastfeeding while intoxicated (and I mean intoxicated, like knocking back several tequila shots at once), if someone is that dumb, the baby will only get a little buzzed, feed a little less, be a little sleepy. The only study I found in the NEJM that reported lasting damage to the baby was with moms who drank one to two alcoholic beverages per day for the entire first 3 months of the baby's life.

Bottom line: If Angela was only planning to have, max, 2 glasses over 2 hours, her BAC would be safe if she waited 3-4 hours to nurse. And no responsible breastfeeding mom goes without pumping and storing milk for 'just-in-case' situations.

And now for the actual story...

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><p>CHAPTER 6<p>

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><p>Angela's hand slipped from her hip and her mouth fell slightly open. It took a moment for her to remember to breathe. She took a step towards Brennan and looked at her with an expression that Brennan couldn't exactly decipher.<p>

"Oh my God," she breathed. "Sweetie?"

Brennan gave a half-shrug and for a moment her gaze dropped toward the floor as she reached up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. Her breath hitched, and she nodded.

In a fraction of a second, Angela had rushed forward, bouncing up and down and shrieking excitedly and hugging Brennan so tightly that for a moment she struggled to draw breath. She couldn't help but laugh in light of her best friend's excitement for her

"Oh my God," Angela cried, pulling away from Brennan and grasping both of her hands in her own. "You're pregnant?"

"Yes." Angela squealed again, beaming with happiness and so thrilled that she was physically trembling. Brennan could not fathom how Michael remained sleeping through all of the noise.

"Booth's?" she asked, still clutching Brennan's hands. She took a quick breath, and, feeling a blush rising to her cheeks, smiled sheepishly in response. This time, instead of shrieking, Angela's eyes began to fill with tears.

"I—I'm sorry I didn't tell you right away, Ange—" she began to hastily explain, but Angela shook her head.

"Sweetie, I'm not upset with you at all, I'm just so beyond thrilled for you right now. Oh!" She embraced Brennan again (for which she was thankful, as her hands were beginning to tingle from lack of oxygen), and Brennan hugged her back. "This is so wonderful. How did it happen? I mean, I _know_ how _it _happened, but when? How long have you known? You know what, it doesn't matter. You are going to be a _mother_!" Angela clutched her hands over her chest, a tear running down her cheek. She sighed excitedly.

Brennan found that Angela's excitement for her was worth more than she could express. She simply beamed.

At precisely that moment, the door to the apartment opened and shut again, and Brennan turned to see that Hodgins had just arrived home. He removed his shoes and locked the door behind him before he turned and realized that both women were staring at him. His eyes went wide and he held his hands in the air defensively.

"Hi?" he tried. "Am I interrupting something?" Again, he was met with silence, but a silly grin had crawled back onto Angela's face, but she had the sense to turn her back toward Hodgins and began to bustle around making tea instead.

"Hey, Jack, how are things over at the estate?" Hodgins came into the kitchen and leaned on one arm against the counter, looking suspicious.

"Things are fine."

"Would you like a cup of tea? We were just going to make tea and popcorn and watch a movie."

"Oh, no thanks, I'm just going to go sit with the baby while you have your girl time," he said, grabbing a apple out of the fruit basket on the counter and taking a bite. "By the way, Dr. B, congrats to you and Booth." Angela and Brennan looked at each other.

"Congrats on what?" Angela asked suspiciously.

"Oh, come on, I know Sweets had to call you before he resorted to calling me," he said thickly through a mouthful of partially masticated apple.

"What exactly did Sweets tell you?" Brennan asked, even though she knew full well what his response would be. Hodgins raised his eyebrows in an expression that asked 'seriously?' He seemed to remember whom he was speaking to, and took up a more direct approach.

"That he saw you and Booth making out in the middle of the Diner," he grinned at her. "I told him to mind his own damn business for once, but congrats! It's about time something happened between you two." Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked out of the room, turning out of the hall. Angela could have sworn that she heard a snort of laughter coming from his direction. She rolled her eyes in his direction, but the second that his footsteps muffled she turned back to Brennan, grasping her upper arms.

"Oh my God, Bren!" she exclaimed as enthusiastically as she could in a whispered voice. Angela's eyes searched her face almost frantically, looking for a sign of emotion, as it occurred to her that her friend had changed her mind about having children. "How do you feel?"

"I feel a wide range of emotions," she said as Angela released her arms. "While I always anticipated a strong feeling of happiness associated with pregnancy, I am having strong feelings of anxiety and trepidation associated with the idea of having a child."

"Hate to break it to you, Sweetie," Angela said as the tea kettle whistled. "But this isn't just an idea anymore. Are you okay?"

"Okay with the pregnancy, or with the associated emotions?" She handed Angela two mugs from a cupboard as her friend chose tea bags.

"Either. Both. Just—" Angela paused to look her best friend in the eye. "Just tell me everything."

"That might evolve into quite a long discussion," Brennan said seriously. "The movie might have to wait." Angela's mouth fell open and her eyebrows shot toward the ceiling.

"Screw the movie. This is _way_ more important. Besides, we can always play the movie on low volume if you're worried about Hodgins snooping." Angela handed a steaming mug of tea to Brennan before she pulled the air-popper out of a lower cupboard to make popcorn. "Besides, you will feel better if you just let it all out." Brennan gave Angela a soft, sincere, grateful smile, and this time it was her turn to hug her friend.

"Thank you, Ange," she said honestly, and she knew Angela understood that she wasn't just talking about the tea and girl time.

* * *

><p>"Hey Bones!" Booth answered his phone almost immediately. He had been expecting her call, after all, and he quickly muted the Stanley Cup playoff game on TV so he could hear her more clearly. It was closing in on midnight and even though he hadn't been sure when she would leave Angela's, he knew that she would call before she went to sleep.<p>

"Hi. How was your evening with Parker?"

"It was pretty low-key. We just hung out here and watched _Transformers_ before he went to bed," he stood and stretched his legs. The game wasn't important anyway; his team, the Capitals, had been eliminated the week before. "More importantly, how was your evening?"

"Eventful."

"Well, what happened? How is the baby? Did you tell Angela?"

"Well, when I first arrived I was hesitant about telling Angela simply because of the state she was in."

"Whoa," Booth said, stopping in his tracks. "What's wrong with Angela? Is she okay?"

"Yes, Booth, she's fine," Brennan said from the other end of the line, where she was currently kneeling in front of her refrigerator. "She was experiencing symptoms of the maternity blues."

"What, like post-partum depression? 'Cause that can be serious, can't it?" Booth picked up his empty water glass from the table and brought it to the kitchen to refill.

"No, the maternity blues are much more common and much less severe. They typically resolve spontaneously in the first two weeks. Angela seems fine now, I suspect all she needed was reassurance." Brennan scoped out a shelf until she found the feta cheese she was looking for, withdrew the container, and tossed it into a reusable grocery bag. "Also, you should know that Sweets has been calling people to ask about our relationship."

"Oh, I know," Booth said. "I got a text from Cam about it. Apparently he's called everyone who might know us. I think the kid's upset because he didn't suspect a thing."

"Yes, that's what Angela thinks, too." A small container of Brie peeked out at her from behind a head of lettuce, and she threw that into the bag with the feta. "Sweets also called Hodgins. He says congratulations."

"Oh. Great. So did you say anything about—" he looked around furtively to be sure that Parker was in his bedroom and would not overhear anything, "—about the baby?"

"OF course not, you told me never to insult the appearance of a newborn in front of its parents. Besides, Michael's head looks nearly normal now." At this response, Booth touched his temples and shook his head.

"No, Bones, not about Michael, I mean did you tell her about—?"

"About my pregnancy? Yes. She appeared to be exhilarated at the news. We spoke about it for a very long time and she offered me some excellent advice."

"You feel better after talking to her?"

"Of course. I always feel better after talking to Angela. Just like I always feel better after speaking with you," Brennan told him, removing a parcel of fresh salmon from the 'meat' drawer. She had forgotten to ask where the fish was raised when she'd purchased it. At the risk of exposing her unborn child to high levels of polychlorinated biphenyls, she decided on safety and the fish went into the bag as well.

"What are you doin' over there, Bones?" he asked, frowning. "There's a lot of background noise. Are you cleaning or something?"

"I am removing all of the foods that are contraindicated during pregnancy from my refrigerator and taking them over to Angela and Hodgins," she said, checking the label on a package of Mexican queso fresco. The label read that it was made from pasteurized milk, and she replaced it in her refrigerator. Having sorted the food, she began to sort the beer Booth liked from the beer he didn't care for.

"Ok," he said simply. "Oh, listen, Parker and I talked. We're thinking mini-golf tomorrow afternoon, and he would love for you to join us."

"I'm not very good at miniature golf," she warned. He chuckled.

"Great! Because I don't like to lose. So will you come?"

"Of course I will come as long as it is okay with Parker."

"Nah, I told you before, he loves you. Actually," he said, frowning, "I'm pretty sure he thinks you're cooler than me."

"I am not a cold fish," she said quickly.

"I know you're not, and Parker knows you're not. It's just an expression."

"Oh, right, I've heard him use it before," Brennan said, sounding relieved, as she stood and closed the refrigerator door. She moved the bag of unwanted food items to the countertop. "I would like to come with you. I think it sounds like fun." There was a pause from Booth's end of the line.

"I didn't tell Parker about our relationship. I'm gonna do it right before we go golfing tomorrow."

"Actually, if it's alright with you, I would like to talk to him." Booth's eyebrows raised in surprise.

"You sure, Bones?"

"Yes, very sure," Brennan said. She folded down the top of the fabric grocery bag and tucked it back into her refrigerator. "What time should I be there tomorrow?"

"I'm thinking early afternoon. You can come over and eat lunch with us around 1 and then we can head out for some putt-putt."

"Excellent," Brennan said. She yawned; it was late, and she began to turn out the lights in her apartment before making her way back to the bedroom. "Booth?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think Parker will accept the change?"

"Sure, Bones. He really likes you, I'm sure he'll be okay with it. And if he isn't—which won't happen, but just in case you're worried about it—he will adjust. Kids are flexible." Brennan accepted that answer. She sat on the edge of her bed and set her alarm clock. She knew she should go into the lab for a few hours in the morning in order to wrap up the things she had put off for her appointment.

"Ok," she said. "I think I'm going to go to sleep now, Booth. It's been a long day."

"Yeah, I'll bet. Well, I will see you tomorrow at one. Sweet dreams, Bones," he said, and Brennan thought that she could hear his smile through the phone.

"Goodnight, Booth."

"Tell baby I said goodnight. And before you start, I know that he can't hear me, but I would feel better if you said it." Brennan rolled her eyes but, smiling, she obliged.

"Your father says goodnight, Little One," she said clearly so that Booth could hear her. "Satisfied?" she asked. He was. "And what makes you think this embryo is male?"

"Nothing, but I needed a pronoun, and I don't like refer to our child as an 'it,'" he said. He, too, walked through his apartment, turning out the lights and making sure that the doors were locked. "Alright, get some sleep, Bones."

"You too," she said. "Sleep well."

"I love you," he said, and even though they had been expressing love toward each other for weeks, the words still brought a smile to his face as they rolled off of his tongue.

"I love you, too."

* * *

><p>That's all for now! As always, I welcome reviews (both positive and negative) and questions.<p>

Y'all are a fantastic audience

Liria


	7. Chapter 7

Hey friends! Thanks for sticking with me and taking the time to read my story. This makes me happy.

There are a couple of things I wanted to say before this chapter gets rolling. The first is that I was reading a story yesterday (which I usually don't do, I prefer just to write my own stuff) in which Angela just happens to find out Brennan is preggo when she asks for decaf tea. Lame, right? I feel like I should make sure you all know that my chapter was published several days before the other one, just in case you weren't sure. I don't plagiarize. Never have, never will. Besides, at the risk of sounding arrogant, I liked mine better :-)

A bunch of you have sent me private messages asking how on earth I know so much random science info. The answer to this is simple: I'm a medical student. I just happen to love writing (and one of my undergrad majors was actually English), and this is the best way I know to de-stress and get out of my own head, so to speak. I also sometimes have this weird compulsion where I research the medical scenarios on shows like House and Bones to see if those situations are feasible in the real world. The only time I've really been disappointed was Booth's brain tumor, which was ridiculously not even close to realistic (I'm sure you don't care why. If for some reason you do, let me know and I will tell you).

So there you have it. And now,

* * *

><p>CHAPTER 7<p>

* * *

><p>Brennan arrived at Booth's apartment at exactly 1:00pm. She rapped on the door and just a moment later heard Booth's voice call out.<p>

"Parker, could you let Dr. Brennan in, please?" A few seconds passed before she heard rapidly approaching footsteps and took a step back from the door as it swung open, revealing Parker. He was grinning.

"Hey, Dr. Bones!" he said happily. "It's so cool you could come putt-putting with us today! It's about time, too. I haven't seen you in like…_forever_." He opened the door wide so that she could enter the apartment, and he closed the door behind her.

"That's not true, I saw you last month, when your dad brought you to the Jeffersonian for your science project," Brennan said, slipping off her shoes.

"That doesn't really count. I only hung out with the bug doctor and one of your assistants. My science fair is in June, and I needed all the help I could get to think of something _really_ cool so I could blow that cheater Ben Bradley out of the water this year."

"Well, you should be able to accomplish that with your exploding watermelon experiment."

"I dunno," Parker said, suddenly looking very disappointed. "My teacher says it's too dangerous to explode things in front of other people. I might have to do somethin' lame instead."

"Maybe not," Brennan said, smiling at him. "We have lots of explosive shields at the lab. It might be possible for Hodgins to find you a plexiglass box of some sort in which you can set fire to the watermelon without it being hazardous to your classmates." Parker beamed.

"Really?"

"Really. So what else have you been doing?"

"We just started up Little League again for the season! I'm so pumped, my team rocks this year! Our first real game was two weekends ago, and we creamed the other team!"

"Well done," she said, happy for the boy.

"And the best part is, I got moved from second base to shortstop!" Brennan had no idea what this meant, however from the thrilled expression on Parker's face, she could tell that the change meant a great deal to him.

"That's wonderful, Parker!" There was a brief pause, and Brennan wondered if she should speak to Parker about her relationship with his father, but Booth chose that moment to enter the room.

"Hey Bones!" Booth greeted with a grin. "Lunch is just about ready." He looked like he wanted to greet her properly, with a hug or a kiss, but held back.

"Great. Thanks for having me, Booth."

"Always a pleasure," he said sincerely. "And you, mister," he addressed Parker, "had better finish the front half of that math worksheet because we're not going putt-putting until you do."

"But it's _almost _done." Booth gave his son a stern look and Parker groaned theatrically, but scampered off to his room anyway.

With Parker out of the room, Brennan made her way toward Booth and hugged him in greeting, but when Booth leaned forward to kiss her, she pulled back.

"Ouch," he said, looking crestfallen.

"What, have I stepped on your foot? Oh," she said. "You're metaphorically injured because I rejected your advance."

"Well, yeah, I'm a little hurt. Are you okay?"

"Perfectly fine. I just think it would be poor form for Parker to learn of our new level of intimacy that way." Booth pouted, but as usual, he had to admit that Brennan had a point.

"Alright," he said. "Look there are fries baking in the oven—with olive oil, no trans-fats—" he grinned, answering her question before she had to ask it. "They've got about 10 more minutes to bake. Why don't you go and talk to Parker now—that is, if you're still up to it."

"Of course," she said matter-of-factly. "I told you last night that I wanted to, and I do not change my mind overnight." They shared a smile, and Booth reached out and took her hand. He gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Okay," he told her reassuringly. "I'll be out here if you need me."

Brennan smiled at him and squeezed his hand in return before releasing her grip, and she turned to head down the hallway toward Parker's room. She found that the door was ajar several inches, and Parker was laying on his bed with a workbook open in front of him, chewing the top of his pencil in concentration. Brennan knocked softly and he looked up.

"Oh, I don't need help with m homework," he said. "It's just long division. Easy stuff."

"I am glad to hear it, but that isn't why I'm here," she said, still standing in the doorway. "I would like to speak to you about something. Would that be alright?" Parker shrugged.

"Sure." Brennan smiled as she entered the room. Parker remained on his stomach at the foot of the bed, his legs kicking at the air behind him, and Brennan pulled Parker's desk chair over near him, sitting and facing him. "What's up?"

"I would like to know," she began, resting her elbows on her thighs and leaning forward slightly to match Parker's eye level, "how you would feel if I became your father's girlfriend." There was a pause, Parker's mouth fell open, and he looked at her as though she might be crazy. Now was perhaps not the time to remember how very much Parker's eyes resembled Booth's. She kept her face arranged into what she hoped was a calm expression.

"Wait, are you serious?" Parker asked, frowning. "No way!"

This was definitely not the answer that she had hoped for, nor the one she had anticipated receiving. She frowned slightly.

"Can I ask why?"

"Because you're awesome." Brennan tilted her head, unsure of how to respond to this.

"I fail to see your reasoning." Parker pursed his lips and nodded, his mop of curly hair falling into his eyes in the process as he scooted closer to the edge of the bed and sat up.

"Look," he said, sounding very levelheaded. "My dad's girlfriends are never around for long. And I like you," he repeated pointedly.

"I see," Brennan said with a note of understanding in her voice. "You believe that if your father and I begin a romantic relationship, then I will be gone, too?"

"Yup. That's how it works."

"I see," Brennan said, tilting her head to the side. "How about I make a deal with you?"

"What kind of deal?" Parker asked, still frowning slightly and tapping his chin with his index finger.

"What if I told you that even if I was your dad's girlfriend, and we broke up, that you could still come visit me at the museum anytime?"

"Really?" He asked, a smile blossoming on his face. She couldn't help but smile back.

"Of course, Parker."

"Why?"

"Because you are an exceptional child, and I enjoy spending time with you," she answered honestly. She watched as Parker, still smiling, fiddled with the pencil in his hands.

"I like hanging out with you, too. You're pretty cool for a girl." Brennan grinned.

"Well, thank you," she said, leaning back in her chair and crossing her right leg over her left. "So what do you think?"

"I think it's okay if you sleep with my dad," Parker said. "How come you're asking me, anyway? Usually when Dad gets a new girlfriend, I don't get a choice, he just tells me to be nice."

"Because I respect your feelings and I wanted you to be honest." Parker nodded, grinning.

"Could I still call you Dr. Bones?"

"Of course. You can call me Dr. Bones, or just plain Bones, or if you'd prefer you can call me Temperance."

"Okay. So does this mean you're going to be spending the night and stuff?"

"Most nights, we will spend the night together. But I would only sleep over while you are here if it's okay with you."

"Lemme think about that one. But if you want to be my dad's girlfriend, it's cool as long as you're in it for the long haul."

"I know what that means," Brennan said, smiling at Booth's son, wondering how he even knew that expression, "and that is my intention."

Parker nodded and reached out to her with a closed fist. For a second, Brennan was unsure of what to do, but then she remembered a similar situation during which Zach had taught her about bumping fists. She, too, held out her fist and Parker bumped it with his.

Booth was just taking the fries out of the oven when Brennan reappeared at his side, and he navigated around her to avoid burning her with the metal pan.

"How'd he take it?" Booth asked, but when he turned around to face her, the expression on her face made it clear that his question was unnecessary. Brennan was smiling from ear to ear. "See?" He said, chuckling with relief. "Nothing to worry about."

"Actually, it took a bit more convincing than I thought," she said, leaning against the wall, still radiating excitement from the knowledge that Parker had given his limited approval for them to be in a relationship. She looked so beautiful that Booth couldn't help but rest an arm on the wall beside hers and leaning in close, half-pinning her there. She smiled when he leaned in to kiss her, and when he broke apart, both of them were smiling with contentment.

"I'm surprised that he needed to be convinced at all, he loves you," Booth said, unable to tear his eyes from hers.

"It turns out that is precisely why he did not take well to the idea of us—for lack of a better word—dating." The expression on Booth's face when she said this was full of confusion, so she elaborated, touching his bicep reassuringly as she spoke. "Parker's experiences with your past lovers have, in large part, been brusque and ephemeral. He applied that experience to our intimacy and concluded that if our relationship became intimate rather than solely amicable and centered around our work, then I would meet the same fate in his life."

"Whoa, wait," Booth reacted, straightening up. "My kid really thinks I'm that bad with women?" Brennan didn't speak, she only gave him a look that she hoped conveyed sympathy. "What did you tell him?"

"I reassured him that I value his opinion, and I told him that if our relationship failed and he still wished for me to be present in his life, that it could be arranged," she said. "Also, I agreed not to sleep over during his time here."

"For how long?" Booth asked, thinking of how empty his slumber, and his bed, had felt the previous night without her by his side. He didn't like it, and was not keen to make this separation a habit.

"For as long as it takes before Parker feels comfortable with our relationship," she said this with a gentle assertiveness, letting him know that she understood his dislike of the situation, but that Parker's feelings on the matter were of the utmost concern to her. He nodded, knowing that it would take some time, but Parks was tough, and he'd get used to the changes.

Especially since the most impactful of these changes was still unbeknownst to him.

* * *

><p>The rest of the day passed without incident. Mini golf turned out to be much more amusing than Brennan had remembered, and she did so well that both of the Booth boys were looking at her in astonished disbelief by the time she had scored her third hole-in-one. Parker had been quick to ask for pointers. Booth, a man who was not accustomed to losing, had mumbled something indiscernible under his breath, though Brennan thought she caught the word 'squints' among the nonsense words. All in all, it was an enjoyable day, despite the fact that Brennan and Booth slept separately that evening.<p>

Sunday arrived and with it, a spirited brunch at a nice restaurant with Angela. It had been Angela's idea to go out and be able to speak freely without worrying about interruption or running into people that they knew. Brennan was surprised to find when she met her friend that Angela was lugging a plastic bag that appeared to be filled with books.

"I had to smuggle these out right under Hodgins' nose," Angela had said conspiratorially, patting the heavy bag as it sat on her lap. "Every one of my pregnancy books. You can borrow the parenting books, too, whenever you'd like. Hodgins went buck-wild and pretty much bought out Barnes and Noble when he found out I was pregnant with Michael."

When Booth let himself into her apartment later that evening after dropping Parker off with Rebecca, he found her curled up in an armchair with a cup of tea, reading a book titled The Mother of all Baby Books. She greeted him without looking up, and he approached her, sitting on an arm of the chair and kissing the top of her head.

"Whatcha reading, Bones?" he asked curiously. She turned the book over so that he could see the cover.

"Angela is letting me borrow some literature on pregnancy," Brennan told him. "She says these books helped."

"What do you think? Is that one helping?"

"In general, the authors offer some helpful advice. There is even a very helpful timeline included."

"A timeline for what?" Booth asked, moving to sit on the sofa cattycorner to Brennan. "For the baby's development?"

"No, Booth, this particular book is about the nuances of becoming a mother," she said, and she couldn't keep her face from turning up into a soft smile at the words. The idea of being mother to a child, while technically true, was still surrounded by an almost ethereal fog in her mind, as if her brain struggled to comprehend what it meant. Lack of understanding was a feeling she did not encounter often. "The timeline consists of the specific rituals that encompass the preparation for the infant, designed to prevent pregnant women from becoming overwhelmed with the tasks at hand."

"Ah, I see," he said. "Well, you have fun with your books, I'm gonna go grab a glass of water. You want anything?"

"No, thank you," she said, indicating the tea on the end table nearby. "Oh, and you shouldn't feel left out, Booth. A number of these books were written specifically for expectant fathers. I'm sure you could benefit from reading them."

"Aw, I dunno, Bones," he said from the kitchen, his voice raised so that Brennan could hear him. "That science mumbo-jumbo definitely is not my thing."

"I know," she said. "But Angela informs me that these books are written in colloquial language, making them both easy to understand and humorous as well as helpful."

"Like the _For Dummies_ books?" Booth asked as he reappeared with his glass of water, peering at her, looking just a little skeptical that he could actually enjoy any book that Temperance Brennan was recommending for him. In response, she slipped a bookmark into the pages of her book and reached into the plastic bag at her feet. After a moment, she emerged with two paperback books.

"Here," she said, handing them to him. Booth looked at the books, titled Breathe: a Guy's Guide to Pregnancy and My Boys Can Swim!, and chuckled.

"Okay," he said, "these look do-able. Thanks, Bones." Booth reclaimed his seat on the sofa and set the books beside him.

"Thank Angela," she said. "So how was your day with Parker?"

"It was great," Booth said, grinning, still emanating the upbeat attitude that she had come to associate with Parker's presence. "We went to church and then hung out at the park, played some ball, got a bite, then it was time for him to go back to Rebecca."

"Has Parker given any additional indications as to how he feels about our relationship?" she asked out of curiosity. Following her conversation with him the previous day, he had not shown any emotion aside from indifference at the relationship change.

"Yeah, he asked me about it," Booth said. "I told him, you know, that we're _together_ together, and he said it was cool. He really likes you, Bones, and you are great with him. I told you it would all work out." They shared a smile and Booth continued. "He asked a lot of questions, though. He wanted to know if we were getting married, having more kids, still working together…"

"He is quite an inquisitive child," Brennan said, a note of approval in her voice. "Although I am curious—" she was interrupted by the shrill ring of Booth's phone.

"Hold that thought," he said, flipping open the phone. "Booth."

Brennan watched as Booth's expression changed quickly from anticipation to interest to the grimace that meant he was receiving too many grisly details, and so she was unsurprised when he hung up the phone and stood.

"We've got a case."

* * *

><p>That's all she wrote, for a few days at least! Please R&amp;R, your feedback makes my day :-)<p>

Liria


	8. Chapter 8

Hey all! In case I haven't said so, I like you. You're an inquisitive bunch. A ton of you asked about Booth's brain tumor, and I thought I'd just explain here rather than send individual messages to people. Let's keep in mind, too, that I am NOT a doctor (yet) and I don't know everything, but according to my books, here's why the medical researchers that HH was using should be fired:

This is the most obvious thing: Cerebellar tumors don't cause hallucinations. Google a diagram of a brain. Look at the cerebellum. This is the part that looks like a lump of spaghetti noodles, and it controls coordinated movement. Now find the cerebrum (aka frontal + temporal + parietal + occipital lobes). It sort of sits on the cerebellum and looks like a lumpy boxing glove. The cerebrum controls all of our higher functions and integrates sensory information. Ok? Now, apparently, Booth has a "cerebellar pilocytic astrocytoma" and is having hallucinations. This is a huge pile of crap. A tumor in the cerebellum does NOT, and never will, cause hallucinations. In order to cause hallucinations, the tumor would have to be fronto-temporal. If Booth had a cerebellar tumor, he'd be stumbling around and having trouble with coordinated movement. Period.

Now we get into nuances. Pilocytic astrocytomas are always benign, always in the cerebellum and they are always in KIDS. Children. Not 40-year-old men. Now, there are astrocytomas that can appear in adults, and in adults, brain tumors are almost always in the cerebrum (thus they could cause hallucinations). The issue is that adult brain tumors are almost never benign, and adult astrocytomas are no different. Having this tumor is great news as far as adult brain tumors go, but these patients are still looking at an average survival of 7-ish years (the most common adult brain tumor, the glioblastoma multiforme, means a coffin in 6 months). Point here: Booth is too darn old for a cerebellar pilocytic astrocytoma.

This one is nit-picky, but brain tumors present with hallucinations extremely rarely. The vast, vast, vast majority of brain tumor folk have with either a sensory problem (ie loss of part of vision or numbness in an arm), a motor issue, or a headache that lasts for a long time and progressively gets worse. Like I said, nit-picky, and hallucinations make better TV than Booth whining about a headache for 3 months. If he had a cerebellar tumor, he should have had motor problems anyway.

And that's why the brain tumor was a massive pile of crap.

Okay, enough about that. On to Chapter 8 we go!

* * *

><p>CHAPTER 8<p>

* * *

><p>"Got an ID off the dentals," Booth's voice came through Brennan's cell phone, which was currently set to speaker mode as Cam and Brennan listened in. "Name's Caralie Porter, 17. Disappeared almost a month ago, her father Thomas filed the missing person's report."<p>

"Great, thanks Booth," Cam said, glancing at the badly burned body on the exam table in front of them. "We'll let you know when we find something."

"I'm gonna head over and talk to the dad, you wanna come, Bones?" Brennan glanced at Cam, who nodded.

"There's not much I can do with the flesh. We'll get started with the beetles, but they still take about 24 hours to work their magic."

"Hear that, Booth?" Brennan asked just to make sure.

"Loud and clear. I'll swing by to pick you up."

"Great," she said. The phone clicked from the other end and Brennan, too, hung up the call. She turned to Cam, who had already prepared to move the body down to Hodgins' workstation, which was the best-equipped for cleaning the bones. Brennan and Cam lifted the exam table down the few steps off of the platform and began to wheel it across the floor.

"Dr. Brennan!" Brennan whipped around to see Sweets making his way across the floor toward her, his lips pursed and his eyebrows raised.

"Shouldn't you be at the Hoover, Dr. Sweets?" Cam asked, stopping and turning to face him with a hand on her hip.

"I don't have any patients for another hour, and I need to speak with Dr. Brennan in private."

"We're in the middle of an investigation, Sweets," Brennan said, "and we have not yet compiled a list of suspects for profiling. I assure you that Agent Booth or myself will contact you if we think your insight will be helpful."

"Uh huh, really? '_Agent_ Booth?'"

"It seems cumbersome to say 'Special Agent Seeley Booth' each time he is referenced in conversation, do you agree?"

"Sweets," Cam interrupted, crossing her arms across her chest now, "if you're here to discuss the relationship between Booth and Dr. Brennan, you're out of line. This is the lab, in which I happen to be the boss, and you can discuss whatever issues you have during your session with them tomorrow, kapische?"

"But—"

"We will call you when we have information relevant to the case," Brennan said, turning her back toward him and continuing to wheel the remains across the floor.

"Have a good day, Sweets," Cam said as she, too, turned her back to him. The young psychologist just stood there, looking defeated and stunned for a moment, before he stuck both hands in his pants pockets and slouching back out the doors to the lab.

"Thanks, Cam," Brennan said honestly once they had arrived in Hodgins' work station and begun to transfer the remains into a large Plexiglass box. Cam only smiled with understanding. When they had finished placing the remains into the box and Brennan emptied three large jars of Hodgins' beetles into it, her phone beeped.

"Booth here?"

"Yes, he's waiting outside," Brennan said as they left the beetles to do their work.

"Great. Let me know what you find out."

"I will."

Just a few minutes later, Brennan was rushing out to the familiar black SUV with her trench coat tied securely and an umbrella shielding her face from the sudden heavy rain that had begun to fall a few hours ago. She hurriedly opened the passenger door and slid into the front seat before closing her umbrella, setting it on the floor between her legs and pulling the door shut behind her. Immediately, the loud pounding of the rain was dulled. She looked over at Booth, who was smiling at her.

"Hey, Bones," he said, sounding cheerful. "Long time, no see."

"But we just— Oh. A joke," she smiled as he pulled out onto the road. She fastened her seatbelt and turned to face him. "Have you found anything new?"

"Not since I talked to you 10 minutes ago," he said. "You?"

"Not particularly, although I had what you would call a run-in with Sweet." Booth groaned and rolled his eyes as he slowed to stop for a red light.

"The kid's gonna be a real pain until our session tomorrow."

"Why?"

"Why? Because he's ticked off."

"Oh," Brennan said, "You mean ticked off at us for keeping our relationship shush shush?"

"Hush hush," Booth corrected automatically as the light turned green. "Yes, but he's more upset that he didn't notice anything. And whenever he's ticked, he takes it out on us."

Booth and Angela had been right, Brennan discovered as she walked into Sweets' office at the Hoover building the next evening. Booth was already there waiting for her; because the beetles had finished cleaning the skeleton of the victim, Brennan had spent the entire day in the lab with Clark—who had come up in the rotation for that week—examining the remains, and the two of them hadn't seen each other. When she entered the room, Booth stood, made his way over to her, and leaned down to kiss her on the cheek. She pulled back.

"Booth!" she said in a quiet and reproachful voice, nodding toward Sweets, who was peering over at the pair with scrutiny.

"Don't mind me," Sweets said. Neither Booth nor Brennan gave any indication that they had heard him, and he only rolled his eyes, shook his head in disbelief, and slid lower into his armchair. Booth shrugged.

"What?" he said, "I haven't seen you all day and I missed you. Besides, Sweets knows about our relationship and it is after work hours." He gave her a charming grin and Brennan cocked her head to the side, exhaling in defeat, but she gave a soft smile. Booth knew it was all the permission he needed, and leaning forward to kiss her, he was pleasantly surprised when she turned her head and gave him a peck on the lips.

Sweets could only look at them as they sat in their usual places on his couch, keeping their usual distance, adopting their usual demeanors. Aside from the obvious display just seconds before, everything between them seemed normal.

"So, tell me," Sweets began, "when did this change in your relationship occur?"

"Which change?" Brennan asked. Booth, thinking she might mention her pregnancy, shot her a curious look that was laced with alarm, but she ignored him. "There has been more than one notable development in our relationship."

"When did you become an intimate couple?"

"Oh," Brennan said. She wasn't sure how to answer this, and she looked to Booth for assistance.

"He means when we had sex," Booth said.

"Ah," Brennan said, nodding in understanding. "Four weeks ago."

"To the day," Booth added. Sweets' eyebrows shot up in alarm.

"Four _weeks_?" he asked incredulously, his voice cracking. This caused Booth to snort with laughter. He quickly quieted when he saw Sweets shooting daggers at him. "Four weeks. So you had sex the night after Mr. Nigel-Murray was killed?"

"Oh, no, that would be four weeks and one day," Brennan clarified. "We first engaged in lovemaking the evening after Booth captured Jacob Brodsky." Booth groaned, slinking further into his own seat. Regardless of whether he was getting used to it, he still felt awkward talking about sex with a 12-year-old in the room. Especially if he was talking about having sex with Bones. It occurred to him then that she had described their sexual relationship as 'lovemaking.' This made him sit up, with a little more confidence.

"Interesting," Sweets said.

"What?"

"He's jumping on your word choice," Booth said.

"'Jumping' makes it sound overly aggressive," Sweets began, but again, neither was listening.

"Oh, you mean my choice to say 'lovemaking' instead of 'intercourse?'"

"Yeah."

"So why did you use that choice of words?" Sweets asked, leaning forward in his chair.

"Because the quality of the experience necessitated the use of a more appropriate expression," she said simply. Booth looked at her and they shared a smile. He couldn't even begin to express how proud he was of her for really opening herself up to possibilities outside the realm of science. He reached out and lay his hand over hers, squeezing it gently. "Anyway," she continued, "we have been seeing each other romantically ever since."

"So, what, are you like dating now?" Sweets asked, directing his question more toward Booth.

"Yep," Booth said, grinning. Brennan looked at him, a small furrow appearing between her eyebrows.

"We are?" Booth did a double-take, looking at Brennan as though he wasn't sure what he was seeing.

"Of course we are, that's what we decided last week!"

"No, we decided to be in a committed, monogamous relationship," Brennan said. "We haven't actually been on a real date, or at least, that's what Angela tells me. Ipso facto, we are not dating. Angela says that 'dating' is often used to imply a purely sexual relationship."

"Okay, that's what I meant," Booth said. He turned back to Sweets. "You heard the doctor. Committed, monogamous, long-term, intimate relationship. So, can we still be partners?"

"Wait, what?" Sweets asked. "Well, it is my duty as an FBI psychologist—"

"Yada, yada, yada," Booth interrupted, waving his hand in front of his face as though he was beating back a gnat. "Yes or no?"

"What if I said no?"

"You won't," Brennan said, looking certain. After a moment of silence from Sweets, she began to have doubts. She looked at Booth. "You said he wouldn't." Booth opened his mouth to say something but seemed to decide against it, because his mouth closed a moment later.

"Sweets, you can't split us up," Booth said, lacing his fingers together, stretching his arms behind his head, and relaxing back into the sofa. Brennan only stared at him. He seemed confident, but she could not think of a good, logical reason why. She blinked at him.

"Oh?" Sweets asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, you didn't figure out the change in our relationship because we stayed so professional," Booth said. "We solved that bowling case in record time, we've kept our hands to ourselves in the workplace—" Just then Brennan opened her mouth to point out that _she_ had complied in this, but _he _consistently had trouble with this. Booth shot her a look and she closed her mouth again. "—We're just the same fantastic Special Agent and Forensic Anthropologist now as we were four weeks ago."

"And frankly, Dr. Sweets," Brennan began, "If such a highly trained, prodigious, and professional a psychologist like yourself failed to see the differences between us, I would conclude that as long as we continue our professional demeanor during working hours, our relationship status can remain under hats."

"Under wraps," Booth corrected quietly. He cleared his throat loudly and sat up straight again. "So," he addressed Sweets in a slightly louder voice, "what do you say, Sweets?" Sweets looked up at the ceiling and then back at the pair of them. He sighed in resignation. He never stood a chance against them.

"Okay, fine, we'll do a trial period. Two weeks. If at the end you prove that your work is still of high quality, I will agree not to report your relationship to my boss. However—" he said, his eyes narrowing at them, "—I still require that we meet every other week for our sessions."

"Fine," Brennan said quickly, causing both Booth and Sweets to look over at her in mild alarm. "Fine, but we can still work together?"

"As long as you keep the terms of our agreement, then yes." Sweets said. Brennan and Booth grinned at each other and at Sweets, and he shook his head. "I can't believe I didn't see it."

"Aw, Sweets, don't feel bad," Booth said, standing to clap the kid on the shoulder.

"Yes, Booth is getting much better at compartmentalizing in the workplace, and I am becoming an excellent actress. It is understandable that you did not notice a change." She, too, stood. Booth made his way back over to her before turning back to Sweets.

"Don't beat yourself up. We're done here, right?—"

"Would it matter?" Sweets muttered under his breath

"—Because we have some work to do on the case. Girl under an overpass beats shrink sessions. We'll let you know if we need profiling."

"Yes, we will see you later, Dr. Sweets."

"Hasta la vista."

As the door closed behind them, all Sweets could do was grasp the arms of the chair and throw back his head, letting out a sigh of annoyance. One thing he did know was that although things appeared to be changing between them, Brennan and Booth remained two of his most simultaneously elusive and maddening clients at the FBI.

* * *

><p>That's all for now. It might be a week before the next update, just fair warning.<p>

Later,

Liria


	9. Chapter 9

Hey! I have nothing to say this time... so why stall? Let's get right to the story :-)

* * *

><p>CHAPTER 9<p>

* * *

><p>"Hey, I never did ask how it went with Sweets on Tuesday," Angela said, cradling Michael in her arms in her seat at the Founding Fathers on Saturday evening. They had just solved the case—with some help from Angela via webcam—and as was the custom, everyone had headed to the Founding Fathers for a drink and a celebration. Brennan glanced down the table and saw Cam and Hodgins laughing as Booth stood at the bar, getting drinks for them. She shrugged.<p>

"He's put us on a probationary period," she said, "But Booth is confident that as long as we continue to achieve success in solving cases and keep a professional demeanor during working hours, he would never recommend that our partnership be dissolved."

"Yeah," Angela said, laughing a little, "And he likes you too much." Both women looked up as Booth approached them holding two glasses in his hand.

"Alright, here we go," he said, setting the drinks down. "As requested, water on the rocks for Angela, and for you Bones," he lowered his voice so that the rest of the table wouldn't overhear, "decaf iced tea with mint and lemon that looks a little like a Long Island from a distance." He winked at her, and she smiled in gratitude.

"Thanks Booth." Her eyes followed him as he made his way back to his seat, handing a bottle of beer each to Cam and Hodgins.

"So," Angela said in a suggestive tone, "how are things?"

"Could you be more specific?"

"If I could, I wouldn't be lowering my voice to keep the conversation from the gang," she said quietly, looking at Brennan with her eyebrows raised slightly in question. Brennan understood.

"Oh," she said. "Everything is going smoothly," she began before lowering her voice as well. "Although my breasts have grown painful recently, did that—?"

"Yep, me too," she said. "It went away after a while, though, don't worry." Brennan nodded.

"Hey, what are you two over there whispering about?" Hodgins asked. Angela rolled her eyes. Her husband had terrible timing.

"Nothing, Hodgins," she said. "I was just telling Brennan what it is that godparents usually do." Brennan nodded in agreement.

"Yes, I had some questions about that."

"Well, that would depend on whether we decide to have Michael baptized," Hodgins said, taking a swig of his beer. "Which we haven't decided."

"You haven't decided?" Cam asked, leaning forward. "Isn't that something you have to decide soon?"

"Yes, but we still have some time," Hodgins said. "And since we are both lapsed Christians, more or less, the decision isn't exactly straightforward."

The conversation continued, but Brennan was no longer listening. It had suddenly occurred to her that Booth would almost certainly want the baby to be baptized into the Catholic faith, and this was something that she had neither considered, nor was she sure what she thought of the idea. She tucked the thought into the back of her mind with the list of other issues concerning childrearing that she needed to discuss with Booth once the first trimester was over.

The evening wrapped up on a jovial note and as everyone went their separate ways—Angela leaving only she had assurance that Brennan would call the next day to finish their discussion—Booth slung his arm over her shoulders as they made their way outside and began to walk toward Booth's SUV. There was a chill in the air that was uncharacteristic of June, and she drew warmth from his partial embrace.

"Another case closed by the excellent work of us and the squints, right Bones?" Booth said, hugging her to him. She smiled.

"Yes," she said. "Only solidifying our nearly impeccable record. Sweets should have no problem allowing us to continue working together."

"Heck no," Booth chuckled in agreement. They walked on in silence for a few moments longer before Booth cleared his throat. "So, uh, since it came up back at the bar, I gotta ask: What do you think about having the baby baptized?"

"I honestly had not thought about it," she said, "not until Angela brought it up."

"You wanna talk about it?"

"Of course, this is an aspect of parenting that we will need to decide before the baby comes, along with a number of issues," she said, and continued walking with him in silence.

"So you don't want to talk about it now?" he asked. He thought this was strange; usually, Brennan preferred to resolve issues immediately after a problem arose.

"No."

"How come?"

"You aren't going to like my reasoning."

"Hit me." Brennan bit her bottom lip and stopped, turning to face him with her arms crossed over her chest.

"I—I admire your faith in optimism, Booth," she said, and he saw a flicker of fear jump out of her clear blue eyes. "But the statistics are clear. Just under 25% of pregnancies end in miscarriage, the vast majority in the first trimester. I want—I just…" Her voice trailed off, but he nodded in comprehension.

"You want to wait until you clear the first 3 months before making the decisions. It would be really hard to spend tons of time making all sorts of plans just to have something happen," he shuddered internally at the thought.

"Is that odd?" she asked, more for reassurance than anything else, and he shook his head.

"Of course not, Bones," he said. "It's normal to be scared, and it's normal to not want to get too excited just in case something does happen. But I don't think anything will."

"I know," she said quietly, "I would like to have your faith." They stood there on the sidewalk for a moment, just looking at each other, and Booth exhaled a sigh.

"Tell you what," Booth said, "It's okay with me if we put off some of the heavier conversations until this little dude has cleared the first trimester." He gently rested his hand on her abdomen even though he knew there was nothing for him to really feel. "But there is one discussion that I think needs to be opened anyway."

"Which one?"

"Names, Bones," Booth said, a tiny smirk rising at the corners of his lips. "'Cause knowing us, that one could really take all 8 months left in your pregnancy to agree on." She couldn't help but smile softly at his grin, and she found herself agreeing.

"That is an agreeable compromise," she affirmed. "I have some excellent suggestions for names that have both meaning and character." Booth groaned but slung his arm back over her shoulders and they continued walking. "Why are you making that noise? My extensive travel and cultural immersion has introduced me to quite a few excellent name options." she said.

"I'm sure it has, Bones," he said, "but let's just try for a good, solid name that won't get our kid beaten up on the playground at school, 'kay?"

* * *

><p>The morning that signified the start of the second month of Brennan's pregnancy, as if it was clockwork, Booth rolled over in Brennan's bed to find that she was gone. Instead, he found her hunched over the toilet, pale and sweaty with her hair haphazardly thrown up into a ponytail. She saw him out of the corner of her eye and waved him away with one hand, grabbing a bit of toilet paper in the other. She spat into the bowl, flushed the toilet, dabbed at her mouth, and sat back on her heels.<p>

"Morning sickness?" Booth asked, expediently snatching a glass off of the bathroom counter, filling it with water, and handing it to her. She reached for it.

"Thank you," she said, feeling too queasy to rise from the floor. She took a sip of the water. "Yes, which is expected at this stage of the pregnancy, although expecting it does not make the vomiting any less unpleasant." Booth slid to the floor, sitting beside her in front of the toilet. He reached out and gave her upper arm a reassuring squeeze.

"I'm sorry, Bones," he said sympathetically. "How about some dry toast and tea? That will help you be less nauseous, right?"

"You think I'm nauseous?" Brennan asked, suddenly looking upset. His eyebrows raised in defense, thinking that this was an odd response.

"Well, you're puking, aren't you?"

"Oh, so that makes you want to vomit as well?" Brennan asked.

"What? No! Of course not."

"But you said I was nauseous. Oh," she said, understanding. "You misunderstand the meaning of the word."

"Wait, what?" Booth asked, even more confused than he had been.

"Yes, the word 'nauseous' refers to the state of inducing nausea in others. If describing a state of nausea in another person, you'd use the word 'nauseated.'" Booth shook his head slightly and stood, holding out a hand to pull Brennan up off the floor.

"Unbelievable," he muttered, as Brennan got to her feet. "She's sick as a dog and still has time to give me a vocabulary lesson." She opened her mouth to counter, but in the end chose not to respond, instead allowing him to pull her into a hug. Her nausea seemed to have subsided, and so she relaxed into his embrace.

"I should get ready for work," she said, pulling away.

"You sure you don't want to take the morning off?"

"I can't," she told him. "You know that." Booth thought it best not to argue.

"Okay. How 'bout I make breakfast? Tea and toast," he said in a singsong voice that was clearly meant to tempt her. She shook her head.

"I'd prefer bran cereal, I should have some," she said, "and maybe some garbanzos. The B6 should help with the nausea."

"Okay, bran and chickpeas it is," he said, kissing her on the cheek. "And for the record, I will never, _ever_ think that you are 'nauseous.'"

"Thanks Booth," she said, smiling at him. He turned and left the bathroom, giving her a space to get ready for work.

The nausea relieved somewhat as the day progressed, and much to Brennan's chagrin it did not cease for the remainder of the week, though she did find some relief in adding a plethora of B6-rich foods to her diet. Booth doted on her as much as he could without arousing suspicion in their colleagues, which was more difficult than usual since they hadn't had a case in over a week. She did not like the extra attention; she hated vomiting more than any other bodily function and did not like that she spent several intervals of her day hunched over a toilet, very aware of the fact that any of her colleagues could find her there and begin to ask questions.

Yet it happened that that week, and the two that followed, passed without significant incident. Brennan found that her although her appetite had increased, she seemed to have less energy. She also noticed an increase in emotional lability, of which she was more embarrassed than anything else. Logically, these things were nothing more than a side effect of pregnancy, but it was still strange for her to think that a creature barely the size of a tadpole could have such a profound impact on her physiology.

"So he's sucking the life out of you?" Booth had asked after Brennan told him this one afternoon during lunch at the diner. "Like a leech?"

"Well, no, more like a _Taenia solium_," she said casually, stirring the ice in her water glass with the straw.

"English, Bones."

"A common tapeworm." Booth stopped, his burger midway to his mouth, finding that he no longer had the desire to eat.

"Did you just compare our child to an intestinal worm?" Booth asked, looking appalled.

"It's a very accurate analogy," Brennan said defensively, subconsciously folding her arms over her abdomen protectively. The corner of Booth's mouth twitched upward at the gesture, but she didn't seem to notice. "Yet I will admit that on further reflection, it sounds… not right. And why do you keep referring to the embryo as a he?" Booth shrugged.

"I dunno, I told you already, I needed a pronoun."

"We won't have a definitive pronoun until birth."

"But can't the techs tell gender on the ultrasound?" Booth asked, taking another bite from his cheeseburger. Brennan's cell phone gave a shrill chirp and she fished through her purse to find it.

"Yes, usually by 20 weeks, but those estimates are only 90% accurate." She withdrew her phone from her purse and frowned. According to the caller ID, the call was coming from her OB/GYN's office. "Brennan," she answered.

"Dr. Brennan? This is Dr. Burkett, I'm calling to confirm your appointment with our office at the end of next Saturday at 9am."

"Don't you usually have your receptionists make those calls?" she asked curiously, hoping she hadn't sounded too rude.

"Yes, I typically do, however I have something to discuss with you if you have a moment."

"Yes, now is a fine time," Brennan told her as Booth looked on curiously, still chewing a bite of his food. Brennan leaned forward onto her elbow as she held the phone to her ear.

"I'll just cut to the chase then, Dr. Brennan. As you know, we ran a number of screening tests on you during your last appointment and some of those test results are just now coming in. Now, I want to reassure you—"

"What did you find in the results?" Brennan interrupted, straightening in her chair. Booth swallowed and he, too, stiffened in his seat at her tone of voice.

"Your tests show that you are a carrier of one of the cystic fibrosis genes," came Dr. Burkett's voice from the other line. Brennan's mouth fell open a fraction of an inch and her breathing quickened against her will. "Now as I'm sure you know, there is no reason to be worried at this point. Your particular mutation is present in about 1 out of every 200 Caucasians, so we need to have Agent Booth tested. If he will be there at your appointment, we can run the screen in our lab here."

"Let me ask him," she said. She rested the phone on her shoulder and looked at Booth. "Will you be coming to my prenatal checkup next Saturday?" she asked him. He nodded.

"Of course, wouldn't miss it for the world," he smiled. "Why?" But Brennan had already turned back to the phone.

"Yes, he will be there," she said.

"Fantastic. Again, Dr. Brennan, I want to reassure you that the likelihood of your child having this disease is very slim, and there is no reason at all to worry until we have Agent Booth's results, alright?"

"Yes, thank you for letting me know, Dr. Burkett. I will see you next weekend, and I will be sure to bring Booth."

"Goodbye," the physician's voice came through to bid farewell, but Brennan had already hung up. She was still frowning as she tucked her phone back into her purse. Booth looked at her with concern in his eyes; he reached across the table and took her hand.

"Hey, Bones," he said, "everything okay?"

"I—It's too soon to tell," she said honestly. "That was Dr. Burkett. She says that I'm a carrier for cystic fibrosis."

"Whoa, what—what does that mean?" Booth asked, anxiety seeping into his heart.

"It means that you need to come to my appointment next weekend to be tested. If you are a carrier as well, our child will have a 25% chance of having the disease, assuming that you would carry the same mutation, and based on the probabilities and assuming the most common mutation, that would be calculated—"

"Bones," Booth said calmly, "there's no reason to be worked up. We don't know anything for sure yet." He paused, but could tell that she was still doing calculations in her head. Better out than in, he supposed. "So what is the probability of this actually happening?"

"Well, between the statistical odds that you carry the same mutation, and the 25% inheritance assuming that you are a carrier, the risk is estimated at 1 in 800." Booth couldn't help but crack a small smile.

"I like those odds," he said. "Hey, it'll be okay, Temperance. We don't know anything for sure, and there's no use worrying." Brennan swallowed, and then nodded.

"Yes," she said. "You're right. We'll just have to wait and see."

* * *

><p>Okay! As always, I love reviews whether you liked the story or not!<p>

[[On second thought, I do actually have a comment in response to JennaTripped's review about "in real life, people never take that crap for long." I disagree. I've taken a lot of unfair crap from higher-ups for the sake of my career (and will undoubtedly take a whole lot more crap before I get high enough in the ranks). As a student, I've had several tests the day after major holidays, have been graded on knowing material that was never taught, and have been asked to learn 120 pages of new material cold before a quiz the following day. Your superiors can make you get them coffee every morning for a year and even though they might be douchebags, they have the power to fail you (which pretty much screws you in the long run, regardless of how great a student you were before). They just _reduced_ the work week for residents to 80 hours (not including call), which is still the equivalent of 2 full time jobs, and the work "day" max was reduced from 36 to 18 hours. Working every major holiday for a year happens and unless you want to change professions, you suck it up and deal. I'm sure that there are other professions and life situations who put up with similar "crap," but you do what you have to. I complain, but I still jump through hoops and push myself because I truly believe that at the end of it I will have the coolest, most rewarding and challenging job in the world :-)]]

Later, gators,

Liria


	10. Chapter 10

Hey all! Sorry it's been a while, but here's the next chapter! (I know it's way longer than I expected, but between my exam, a hectic week and a massive case of writer's block, this update took a while).

Also, I know it seems like a lame, poser storyline to have Brennan be a CF carrier, however, I want this to be true to life. In life, just because a friend carries a genetic trait doesn't mean that you can't. Additionally, everybody carries an average of 300 harmful genetic mutations. Period. Otherwise there would be zero variation in the human genome.

Anyways, human genetics aside, let's get on to what's really important: the next chapter!

* * *

><p>CHAPTER 10<p>

* * *

><p>"Booth," Brennan exclaimed sharply but quietly, reaching over and putting her hand on Booth's knee, which had not stopped jiggling nervously since they had arrived in the office.<p>

"Sorry, sorry," he said. "I'm just a little tense, that's all." Brennan gave him a sympathetic look and sat up in her chair, turning and looking into his warm eyes. She sighed.

"Me too," she said. "But there's nothing we can do until we know the results of your blood tests."

"I know, I just want everything with our little bugaboo to be okay."

"Bugaboo?"

"It's a term of endearment, I'm trying it out," he said. Her face held skepticism. "What? You're always getting on me about calling the baby a 'he' and besides, you're the one who called our kid a bug."

"Tapeworm," she corrected automatically. "And you know I didn't mean it like that." He did know, but when he opened his mouth to tell her that, he was interrupted by one of the nurses calling out Brennan's name to be seen for the appointment.

The first half of the appointment went smoothly, and it turned out that Brennan's vital signs, measurements, and symptoms were right on track with the stage of her pregnancy. After her physical exam was through, Dr. Burkett told Brennan that she could just sit back and relax before her ultrasound took place, and then she turned to Booth.

"Agent Booth? If you're ready, I'd like to do your blood draw now." Booth stuck his hands into his pockets, squared his shoulders, and nodded.

"Yeah, of course," he said, stepping forward. He glanced back at Brennan with reassurance that he didn't quite feel wholeheartedly before he stepped into the hallway and shut the door to the exam room. After the door had closed, she turned toward the clothing that she'd neatly folded on a nearby chair, desiring to change out of the hospital gown that draped over her body.

It had been a more difficult week than she'd like to admit, especially because all logic told her that it was too early to worry just yet. She had to keep repeating the odds time and again in her mind, 1 in 800, and as a person who placed so much value in statistical analysis, those numbers should have been enough for her. Somehow, though, when she was thinking of her own child, no risk seemed small enough to chance.

One positive thing had come out of the discovery that Brennan was a carrier of cystic fibrosis: she had been able to call Russ and tell him. Russ had told her recently that he and Amy had thought about having another child, and with Hailey having the illness already, Brennan knew it was important that Russ be tested. Mercifully, when she mentioned this to Russ, he did not ask her why she knew in the first place. Though he was her brother, Brennan did not want to tell anyone else about the pregnancy until the end of the first trimester. Except, of course, for Angela. But even Angela didn't know about this most recent development with the baby, because, Brennan had reasoned, there was no reason for anybody else to be unnecessarily worried before they needed to be.

She sat again on the exam table, and only a few minutes later Booth was back at her side, and then another woman appeared, with bleach-blond hair and dark roots that clearly indicated that the color of her hair was false. The woman wheeled an ultrasound cart into the room and introduced herself as Amanda. Booth nudged Brennan, a very giddy grin plastered onto his face.

"Bones, this is it!" he said excitedly. "We're gonna see our baby for the first time!" Brennan smiled too.

"Fetus," she corrected gently as he put his arm around her. Booth's eyebrows shot up.

"Whoa, when did the little bugaboo become a fetus?"

"Technically, yesterday. Our fetus has graduated from its status as an embryo."

"Wow," Booth said, a glimmer of what looked like pride in his eyes. "Well whadd'ya know, the little guy—or girl," he corrected himself before Brennan could, "is growing up so fast!" The ultrasound technician couldn't help but chuckle at this, but she just turned on the machine and asked Brennan to lie back. She asked Brennan to pull her gown up past her navel and then placed a large paper drape over her pubic region and thighs. Booth took that time to move to the other side of the exam table and out of the technician's way. They shared a smile and he gently took her hand.

"This gel is gonna feel chilly at first," she told Brennan, who nodded and pulled back her top to allow the tech to squirt a generous amount of the gel onto her supra-pubic region. "Okay, let's take a look and see what baby is up to."

Amanda picked up the transducer probe and held it firmly to Brennan's abdomen. After moving it around for just a few seconds, an image appeared on the screen, and though it was fuzzy, the meaning was clear to Brennan. There was the black void of the inside of her uterus, and laying right on the edge of it, the unmistakable form of a tiny human being. Before she quite knew what was happening, she felt a tear stream down her cheek but did not bother to wipe it away. There was her child, and she thought she saw it's tiny, fast heartbeat fluttering away on the screen.

"Yes, there it is," the tech said, pointing out the baby on the screen. With a few keystrokes, she zoomed in to the baby's image and enlarged it, making the fetus' features easier to see. "There's its head, which is about half of its body size, and you can see its heartbeat just hammering away."

Both Brennan and Booth gazed at the image of the tiny fetus—their child—on the screen, and they squeezed each other's hands a little bit tighter. Booth leaned down and pressed a kiss to her temple, and she reached up to lay her free hand on his cheek. Both still stared transfixed at the fuzzy outline of their unborn child. And then the fact that they were having a child together was even more vivid and real than it had ever been before.

* * *

><p>The rest of the weekend passed rather uneventfully, and Monday found Booth without a case and, more importantly at the moment, without a lunch date. He sat at his usual place at the counter of the diner, mutilating his piece of what no longer looked like apple pie with his fork, while Brennan had been caught at the Jeffersonian doing some kind of identification.<p>

"Don't worry, Booth," she had reassured him over the phone. "I have quite an array of healthy foods here, and you know that I have been vigilant about eating every 3-4 hours." After another reassurance that yes, she could take care of herself and the baby, the call ended and Booth was left staring forlorn at the burger and fries that had just arrived for him.

The bell on the door to the diner tinkled, but Booth didn't look up, instead scooping some of the pie mush onto his fork and chewing it slowly. He did take notice, though, when Angela slid into the seat beside him and asking the waitress for a turkey club. She smiled at him.

"Hey, Booth," she greeted him. "Bren said she had to ditch you, and I thought you might like some company."

"Sure," Booth said, giving a noncommittal shrug of the shoulder. "So, how's life outside of maternity leave?" Angela's face melted into a sad little frown, and she crossed her arms over the table.

"I love being back, but I really miss Michael. I know it must sound totally weird, but I feel like I'm missing out on so much of his life."

"Nah, just means that when you do get to hang out with the little guy, you appreciate it more, you know? That's how I feel with Parker." Angela nodded.

"Yeah, I get that," she said. "So speaking of parenthood, any news yet on your little one?"

"Nah," Booth said, taking a bite of his burger as the waitress arrived with Angela's sandwich. "The office said my blood test'll be back by the end of the week. Hopefully this will be behind us by then." Angela gave him a sympathetic look.

"I'm so sorry you and Bren have to go through this, Booth," Angela said, spreading mayonnaise on her sandwich. "If it's any consolation, I know exactly how you feel." Booth looked over at her, frowning. How could she possibly understand? Sure, her and Hodgins had a scare with Michael, but blindness wouldn't have shortened his life, and with technology he would have still had a relatively normal life. Cystic fibrosis was different. Very different.

"All due respect, Angela, but you don't," he said. "I looked it up. These kids look miserable, they have infections all the time, and they have trouble with nutrition, and their parents have to practically beat the mucus out of them to get their lungs clear. You know what the lifespan is?"

"Booth—"she started apologetically, wishing she hadn't taken the conversation down this road.

"35. That's like half of normal. So don't tell me you know _exactly_ what me and Bones are going through." He opened his mouth to say more, but his better judgment caused him to shut it again, instead shoving a large bite of his burger into his mouth, and both were silent for a moment.

"I'm sorry, Booth," Angela said, resting her hand on his arm. Booth swallowed and shook his head.

"No," he said with resignation. "I'm sorry I snapped at you, Angela. I know you mean well, it's just—" his voice trailed off.

"It's an impossible situation to wrap your head around," Angela said through a bite of sandwich. "How has Brennan been doing?" Booth shrugged.

"You know Bones, she's trying to logic her way through it, but the fact that it's our kid is affecting her more than she'll let on," Booth said. "She keeps saying there's no use worrying until my blood test comes back, but it's hard _not_ to worry, you know?"

"Of course," Angela said. "Like you said, it's your child, which pretty much nullifies all logic and statistics. Is she talking to you about it?" Booth smiled softly.

"Yeah, she is," he said. "I mean, not a whole lot, but she's being open about what she's feeling." He grinned. "I'm so proud of her."

"Awww," Angela sighed. Just then, a shrill chirp from Booth's phone caused him to give an apologetic look to Angela for having to answer the call as he turned away.

"Booth," he answered. Angela took another bite of her sandwich and watched Booth's expression change from annoyance at the interruption to interest. "Okay, I'll be there in 20. Thanks, Hacker." He hung up the phone.

"Got a case?" Booth nodded and stuffed the last of his cheeseburger into his mouth.

"I'm gonna go get Bones. Want a ride back to the Jeffersonian?" Angela shook her head.

"No, thanks, I'm going to take a quiet, restful, non-grisly lunch break. We'll continue this conversation later." Booth shrugged in acknowledgment and left the diner, the bell on the door tinkling behind him as he pulled his phone out again and dialed a new number. It rang two, three, four times before the kid picked up his phone.

"Wendell Bray," Wendell whispered, moving quickly away from the table on which his books and computer sat, keeping an eye on his things as he found his way to the nearest cell-phone zone in the university's large library.

"Hey, it's Booth," he said succinctly. "Why are you whispering?"

"I'm at the library," he answered. "What can I do for you, Agent Booth?"

"Got a case, lots of body bits in the high marshes, and Bones is gonna want another pair of hands to help recover the bits. You in?" Wendell's brow furrowed, confused.

"Wait, isn't it Daisy's week on rotation?"

"I dunno, but whichever one of you squinterns is at the lab is tied up with some ancient remains. We need help in the field, so are you in?"

"Why me?" Wendell asked, not bothering to lower his voice, making his way back to pack up his things to leave.

"You need the hours, and we need a squint in the field. Kapische? So, do you want a ride to the crime scene?"

"No need, I'm only a few blocks from the lab. I'll meet you there in 10." the kid said, hoisting his backpack over his shoulder and making his way out of the library. Booth nodded in affirmation.

"Good, later," he said before hanging up. A quick phone call to Brennan and 10-minutes later, he was walking through the door to his partner's empty office. To save time, he bustled around, gathering her kit, jumpsuit and gumboots atop her desk.

Booth didn't have to wait long for Brennan to arrive. She was breathtaking to him, and her appeal was accentuated by the glow of pregnancy. He didn't care what she said about it just being an increase in blood volume; something about her just illuminated the room. He stood to greet her as she walked into her office, smiling. He stole a quick kiss and she tilted her head, raising her eyebrows in a slightly stern gaze. He knew that she was still getting used to the idea of public displays of affection in the workplace.

"Hey Bones," he said, flashing a charming grin. "How's your day been?" Her face relaxed and he could tell that she wasn't going to reprimand him for kissing her in her office. This time. Baby steps, he reminded himself, doing a very small victory dance in his mind.

"Uneventful," she said, tying her hair back and slipping off her shoes. She began to step into her jumpsuit. "I'm sorry I missed lunch."

"But you ate, right?"

"Of course I ate, Booth," she said, setting a hand on her hip. "Every 4 hours, as instructed. I wish you'd stop worrying." She put her arms through the sleeves and zipped the suit.

"Yeah, that's not possible," he said, "After all, you're—"

"Good afternoon, Mr. Bray," Brennan said over Booth's shoulder, looking toward the door. Booth let out a low whistle. He turned and sure enough, the kid was walking toward them, knapsack over his shoulder and smiling.

"Hey, afternoon, Dr. Brennan," he greeted them, setting his knapsack down next to Brennan's couch. Booth nodded to him in recognition. "Am I late?"

"No, not at all," Brennan said, pulling out an additional jumpsuit and pair of boots from behind her desk and handing them to Wendell. "You'll need to put these on."

"Sure thing," he said, "Is it cool if I leave my bag here while we're in the field?"

"Yes," Brennan responded, pulling on her boots and tying them. Soon, the three of them were off to what turned out to be a very hot, sticky late-June afternoon, recovering the decomposed remains of what turned out to be two dismembered victims. After the scene was thoroughly documented, Brennan and Booth headed back, leaving Wendell to supervise the recovery of the rest of what Booth had termed the "body bits."

By the time the identities of the bodies—Darnell Jones and Akeelah Young—were discovered, it was nearly 10pm. Wendell had just arrived back with the last of the remains and samples from the crime scene when Brennan, still circling over the stainless steel tables containing the remains, felt Booth hovering over her.

"Hey," he said, touching her arm lightly. "I know that you want to keep going here 'til you figure everything out, but you've got to get some sleep. The bones'll still be here tomorrow."

"Booth, these two were barely adults. They deserve justice," she said, turning to face him. She saw the concern in his eyes, and she knew he wasn't going to budge.

"They'll get it. Hey, with us, they always get justice," he gave her a small smile and nodded toward the door.

"Well, almost always," she corrected gently, still peering at the remains, and Booth got the feeling that she was stalling to try to gather every sliver of information she could before heading out for the night. He allowed her a minute more, and she seemed to understand the gesture.

"I'm gonna get your things and lock up your office, 'kay? Then we're getting you home." Brennan wanted to protest, but even though she was only two months pregnant, she was already beginning to notice a decrease in her stamina. She scrawled a few more notes before Booth reappeared with her bag, and she left for the evening. Booth chuckled, putting his arm around her. She craned her neck to look around at him.

"What's funny?" she asked, feeling a bit confused.

"You used to put up more of a fight when I tried to get you to take care of yourself."

"Well, yes, but now I have another being's welfare to look after as well," she said. "I'm not giving in to you, per say, I am simply putting the well-being of the fetus ahead of my desire to continue working."

They were silent for the remainder of the walk to Booth's SUV. As they pulled out of the parking garage, Booth glanced over at Brennan.

"Oh, hey, do you have plans for the 4th of July?"

"Work."

"Nope, lab's closed, I already checked with Cam. C'mon, Bones, it's Independence Day!"

"Okay, so what are you doing to celebrate our nation's independence?"

"We," he emphasized, "have been invited to Jared's place for a good old-fashioned barbecue. It's gonna be great, Pops will be there, I'm getting Parker for the day, and Padme and her family will be there, too."

"I will have to make sure that I'm free from my work obligations, but that sounds like fun," she smiled to herself. A thought occurred to her and she looked curiously at Booth. "Does this mean that your family is including me as one of its own?"

"What?"

"Well, anthropologically, when a clan invites an outsider to a cherished festival celebration, there is generally an unspoken agreement that extends membership to the outsiders. Has your family extended membership to me?"

"Of course, Bones," Booth said, pulling in to his parking space at his apartment building. "You'll be getting your official membership certificate in the mail any day now." He looked at her seriously, and she furrowed her eyebrows in contemplation of this.

"But what—oh," she said, a smile coming to her face. "You were joking." Booth chuckled.

"About the certificate, but not about being a part of the family," Booth said as they left the car and started up the walkway to the apartment. "But if you really want a certificate, I could probably manage that."

He laughed at the continuation of his joke, but Brennan remained in silent contemplation. Booth's family was accepting her as one of their own. She knew that she liked, even loved, Parker and Hank and even Jared—though he'd had his unpleasant moments—as though they were her family, but she was filled with an indescribable and pleasant feeling at knowing they seemed to feel the same way about her. It had taken longer for her to feel this way about her own father.

It was a very nice feeling, having a large family, she thought as Booth jiggled open the lock to his apartment and led her through the door with his hand at the small of her back. Between what Booth called their "Squint family," her brother and Amy and the girls, her father, and now Booth's family, she felt secure and took comfort in the fact that this tiny fetus growing inside of her would be surrounded by so many caring people. It was something she'd never really had, and even though she wouldn't be personally experiencing it, she felt excited for her child to grow up in such an environment.

* * *

><p>Okay, I know, I'm sorry. It's been forever since I updated, but I swear I'm not neglecting this story intentionally. Life just happened. If the flow or quality of this chapter seems off, it's the writer's block, I promise.<p>

Anyhoo, that's all for this update! Please don't forget to review

Later, friends!

Liria


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